Beyond Thy Sight
by Lahara
Summary: Morgan Findlay works trace evidence on graveyard shift, but that doesn't mean the dead have nothing to say about it. She just wants a semblance of normality, but between lost souls and two men on her shift things never look up. ep.2x17 on. not N/G slash
1. Chapter 1

Beyond Thy Sight

by Lahara

**A/N:**_ Hello CSI fans, and any fans of mine that might have stumbled upon this. Yes, my third fanfiction, I know. I'm planning more work on _The Lost Commodore _and haven't given it up I swear! However, this story got under my skin during vacation and I had to write it down. _CSI_ has become another one of my recent addictions, more and more so since I'm actually learning the science behind it. That coupled with the fact George Eads and Eric Szmanda has been making far too many appearances in my dreams._

_I've been flipping through alot of Nick/OC and Greg/OC stories, but few appease my particular taste. Not that they are bad, just not what I'm looking for. Add in that I'm not a fan of slash (sorry, just not my thing) and I figured Greg and Nick need some loving, seperatly and with the female of the species!! There is no bashing in this story, and I'm hoping for it to follow in some chronological order. It starts off from episode 2x17 Felonius Monk and will continue from there._

_I want to explain something **before** you read... if this is your first time. The supernatural theme in this story is in truth a crossover from an RPG called _' CJ Carella's Witchcraft'_, a mostly out of print pen and paper game. The reason I wanted to mix this with CSI is because _'Witchcraft'_ is basically in modern day but hads a relativly unknown supernatural subworld... those of you familiar with the_ 'World of Darkness'_ of_ White Wolf_ fame will find this similar. Basically summed up: there is magic, vampires, ghosts, demons and so on... but the majority of the world doesn't realize it. Some people are "gifted" with metaphysical powers who know about this underworld, and some don't who have any gifts are still trapped in it. In this reguard the main character is "special" while compared to an average, ungifted human, but there are people and beings out there which are far more powerful than her._

_Plus, if this story could have a third theme, it would be Humor. Romance, humor, and supernatural themes are all important in this story, but humor seems more a style choice than a theme. So for the sake of priority, I put Supernatural and Romance. There will also be other themes woven into the story, but aren't as prevalent as the three listed._

_Also, when you're done, please read the author's note on the bottom for a few more things I want to clarify. That's it, and enjoy!_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or have any rights to it what-so-ever. This is a work of fiction based on the show created by Anthony E. Zuiker who, if he so wishes, can have me hired as an additional writer for the show. Hey, I can dream, can't I? Morgan Findley is a character of my own creation.

* * *

"Nyahh!!"

Morgan Findlay winced in pain, her brow creasing and face scrunching in the sudden reaction. She pressed her palm to her forehead and tried to rub away the ache left by the initial searing flash.

Her fellow trace lab techs looked up from his work on the GCMS with a slightly raised eyebrow. "You alright, Findlay?"

"Uhhh?" She looked up and fixed her glasses that got slightly skewed. She looked up to Vincent, mostly due to her modest 5'5" height, and blinked a few times with her deep, expressive brown eyes. "Um… yeah… I… I think I just have a migraine coming on. A really… really bad migraine."

The tech, Vincent looked back down to the monitor, flicking a pen back and forth between his fingers. "Mm…. better take something for it. Having a migraine while staring at the microspectrophotometer might make your brain want to melt."

The corner of her mouth turned up slightly as she stood. She pushed back a strand of dark brown hair that had slipped away from her ponytail and retorted, "I'll have to remember that next time I ask for vacation time."

As she left Vincent called after her. "You have your sense of humor, you'll be fine."

Morgan chuckled, rubbing her temples as she forced the flashes to the back of her brain. The pain was only one burden of carrying the gift. This always happened whenever there was a strong disturbance, the negative vibrations carrying outwards from a particularly horrible incident like a shockwave. There wasn't much she could do though, just wait it out until the crime was discovered and eventually passed through the lab. Whenever she touched those pieces of evidence, even with her latex gloves she could feel the volatile energy pulsing under it.

After getting some homemade medicine from her locker she sat down in the break room trying to avoid the coffee. Since caffeine reduces levels adenosine activity, it causes an increase in levels of the neurotransmitter dopamine. For most people it made that desired stimulated feeling, but for Morgan it made her synapses a little too receptive to fluctuations in energy. Instead she placed her homemade medicine, a special mixture of tea and herbs, in a coffee cup and grabbed the hot water pot.

The steam that escaped as she poured the hot water relieved her senses a bit more and her shoulders drooped in relaxation. As Morgan replaced the pot and watched the brown swirls of steeped water mingle with clear, her gift tingled in its heightened state of awareness. She could feel Catherine upset over something, it wasn't over her daughter and felt like an old sting buried in her. Nick and Warrick were somewhere close to one another, both feeling relaxed. Greg was in a playful mood, as per usual. Grissom was concentrating on something and Sara was, for lack of better word, muddled. There was something else, some other presence tickling her mind. She quickly started drinking her tea, the vapors even aiding in unwinding her mind.

She wasn't terribly close to her co-workers, having only started a month ago. In fact, she knew the others better through what their auras told her than any exchanged words. Vincent sometimes referred to Morgan by last name only teasingly after she first called him "Mr. Jemison," and they had developed a playful friendship after the third week. Greg would flirt with her but seemed to do that with the other female techs too, so she just passed it off as too many hormones and not genuine interest. Archie and she found similar interests in video games after she gushed over his handheld and spent a whole break debating over computer vs. console gaming.

Morgan left the break room passing by Mandy, one of the fingerprint techs, who gave her a smile as she made her way back to her lab. She took a turn, getting closer to her destination before something made her stop short. Four monks stood there, all of them wearing orange robes with their heads shaved, hands clasped in front. The all turned and regarded her, solemn faces. But there was something off, and she knew it. She slowly walked towards them, her eyes locked on them with curiosity. Were they what she felt before? No, that was a disturbance and felt wrong, while now she only felt peace and serenity. She felt her third eye open without her guidance and was greeted by four brilliant white auras.

The intensity made her knees buckle in surprise and the initial brilliance faded a bit. Now she could see them clearly for what they really were; their faded auras though a brilliant white still showed that they were dead. They seemed so at peace though, so ready to move on and not tied to the material realm. She took a step forwards and held out her empty hand a bit as everything fell into place.

'That's what I felt. They died. Maybe they knew I felt it… But they're ready to go back to source. Just go… don't stay here because of me.'

Slowly their forms became perfect white light once more, until they were nothing but points of light. She saw a flash of an image behind her eyes of a temple, and as suddenly as Morgan came across them, they vanished. She felt wetness on her cheeks and touched them to find tears. It all made her cry and yet she knew they were more at peace than any others in this very building. She downed the rest of her medicine quickly, feeling its warmth spread through her chest quickly.

Morgan slowly re-entered the trace lab, Vincent looking up to her as she stepped inside. "Hey Findley, you okay now?"

"Yeah… I'm okay I just… an eyelash turned inwards and irritated my eye a bit." She had wiped the tears off her face before coming back, but her eyes still betrayed her with wateriness.

She tossed the empty coffee cup into the trash and started working fervently to get through the leftover batch of trace that day shift had bestowed upon her. The faster Morgan got through it, the more prepared she could be when the monk's case reached her lab.

* * *

Morgan pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn. It was only several hours into her shift, but she was getting tired from her relentless pace. Vincent had left for a break, and since she had gotten bored waiting for anything from the graveyard shift to drop something off she had been breaking into his pile. Vincent didn't complain, but just gave her a worried look.

Suddenly Catherine came in holding an empty evidence bag and a bloody knife in her hands, with Greg close on her heels. Morgan looked up in surprise, turning in her chair to face the two of them.

"Um… hi Catherine. Hi Greg. Can I help you two?" She adjusted her glasses that had slipped a bit down her nose and looked back and forth between them.

Catherine stepped over to the younger woman and motioned to another table in the lab. "Mind if I borrow your ALS?"

"Sure… need help?" Morgan moved over to the light switch for the ceiling lights and turned it off.

"No, that's alright. I don't want to interrupt you." She gave a weak smile as Morgan nodded and turned on the ALS, causing orange light to fill the room. She could feel that this object held a great deal of importance to Catherine, so she moved away not to get under her toes.

"Yeah we'll try to work quietly." Greg smiled charmingly as Morgan squirmed past him to her station.

As she sat down she raised an eyebrow at Greg. "Speaking of work, don't you have your own lab, Sanders?"

"Well how can I resist being around two lovely ladies of forensics?" Greg flashed his trademark Sanders grin, to which only got a twitching of an eyebrow from Morgan.

He quickly got nervous under Morgan's silence, and Morgan only crossed her arms over her chest and waited for a real answer. It didn't take long before Greg spilled, "I'm helping Catherine with an old case."

"See Greg? That didn't hurt." Morgan smiled warmly at him and turned back to her microscope.

Greg looked over to Catherine who was now examining the knife under the ALS. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"You see that?" Catherine answered, turning the blade slightly under the light.

Greg got closer to Catherine to examine the knife from next to her. "It's blood. That's a weak sample. That's probably why Ecklie took the thicker one."

"Fifteen years ago, we figured, why light up something you can't analyze in the first place?" Catherine looked over to Greg.

Greg looked back to her for a moment before returning his eyes to the blade. "Yeah, except now, we can replicate DNA a million times, even from the most minute sample of blood."

She set down the bloody knife on the table. "Priority." Catherine made for the door. "Let me know what you find out."

Greg turned after her she passed and responded with eyes locked on the blade. "Yes ma'am."

Greg started to reach for something on the table that wasn't there, and then looked around the room, realizing he wasn't in his own lab. He sheepishly stepped over to Morgan and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ummm… Morgan… where do you keep your swabs?"

She smiled at his sudden shyness, actually preferring it over his outlandish behavior at the moment. "Sure."

She stood and went over to one of the tables that had many drawers built into it, sliding out one such drawer and producing a swab. Morgan held it out to Greg, who wrapped his fingers around it, but she didn't let go just yet. "You know Greg, you don't have to flirt with every girl in the lab to get them to like you. I know you're not exactly the calm, quiet kind of guy but… it really puts off women if you flirt with them and all the rest like they're just TNA to you."

He tilted his head a bit, raising his eyebrows as Morgan let go of the swab and went back over to her microscope. He stood there for a moment, blinking before he spoke up in a hushed tone. "But I like women…"

"Yeah… and I like men. But for women it's hard to tell if you're being sincere if you treat them like that. They like to know they're important to you." She pulled out her clipboard and pen, and without another word resumed her work.

It took Greg a few moments of contemplation before he went over to the bloody knife and started his work for Catherine. Soon he replaced the knife in the evidence bag, resealing it and thanking Morgan before he left. She just smiled to herself softly as he thanked her, trying to ignore the faint tint that had developed in his cheeks. He quickly headed back to his lab to run the new DNA.

* * *

Some time later Morgan finally took a break. Well, Vincent had just about shoved her out of the lab and shut the door behind her. He insisted that she eat something and relax before returning to work. She insisted she was fine but eventually relented. Now she was eating her brown bagged lunch and sipping peppermint tea.

Nick Stokes came in, holding a case file in his hands. He smiled at Morgan before heading over to the fridge. She smiled politely with her mouth shut, since she had just taken a bite of her gyro. Yes, she actually made her own gyro at home.

She currently felt far too confidant then she would normally allow, with the aid of finally getting through to Greg and the comfort of her peppermint tea. Certainly two conversations in one day with her fellow co-workers wouldn't kill her. She swallowed a bite of gyro she had been working on and took a sip of tea before speaking up. "Working through lunch, Stokes?"

He smirked a bit, pulling out a deli sandwich from the refrigerator and setting both down on her table to get some coffee. "Yep. You don't have to call me by my last name, y'know."

"Yeah but… I don't really know you much." Morgan pointed out before taking another bite.

"Well… call me Nick then… and I'll call you Morgan." He filled a coffee cup and replaced the pot on the burner. He sat down across from her and started to unwrap his hero.

"I'll keep that in mind, Nick." She wiped her mouth and cleaned a bit of the lamb's meat juices that had trickled onto her fingers with a napkin.

"Is that… is that a gyro? Where did you pick that up?"

"I made it. Found some lamb slices in a supermarket and figured, what the heck." She held it out to him. "Here, it's not bad. I got cucumber sauce and everything on it."

He laughed a bit. "I'm not going to eat your lunch right after exchanging names."

"Aww c'mon. Be a man. I'm not sick or anything." She waved it back and forth teasingly. Yes she definitely was far too confidant in the moment, but it was actually kinda fun. "If it makes you feel better I'll take a bite of your sub."

Nick smiled wider and grabbed her wrist, stopping her from swinging the food around. "Awright awright. But if I get strep throat or something, you're going to pay me to make up my sick days."

"Fair enough. Just don't go licking any old pennies to try and get sick on purpose."

He leaned forward in his seat a bit, taking a big bite from her gyro. He managed to keep his eyes on Morgan, making her feel like they were participating in something forbidden.

'_Agghh… this man is too sexy for it to be legal.'_ Morgan mentally fumed as he chewed her lunch. Damn that peppermint tea, all soothing and putting her in this position.

"Hey I said a bite, not a canyon!" She lashed out her sexual frustration in a faux mortified retort towards Nick.

"Mmm… that is good." He let go of her wrist slowly, and as the last digit trailed off her skin Morgan felt light explode being her eyes.

It wasn't like she received such sexual bliss from his mere touch, as nice as it was. Just something triggered like a bit of a warning light that blinks before the alarm starts blaring. Strange thing was, it was coming from Nick but it didn't match his aura.

It took her a moment before she set back down her gyro. Nick was absorbed in unwrapping the last bits of wax paper from his sandwich and didn't notice the change in her demeanor.

"I hope you don't mind a meatball hero, 'cause that's what I got." He held out half of it to her. "I mean, I figure fair is fair."

"Huh?" Morgan looked up to him slightly dazed. "No that's fine… just better have mozzarella cheese on it."

She smile weakly and took a bite of his sandwich while Nick started working on the other half. It tasted decent enough, but she preferred her gyro far better. Morgan replaced it on his wax paper and sat up straight.

"Nick… um… is everything okay?" she asked while examining his face.

He swallowed a sip of coffee and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah… I'm fine. Why?"

Morgan waved her hand dismissively and picked up her gyro. "It's nothing… just a funny feeling in my gut."

He frowned a bit, marinara sauce dripping from the end of the half a sub in his hands. "I don't make you uncomfortable… do I?"

She coughed as he said that, having partially swallowed a bit of her lunch the wrong way. God he did, but not in a way she was willing to admit to so quickly. She cleared her throat and took a sip of tea before gasping for air. "No… God no… it's not that. I just get funny feelings sometimes… maybe it's the case you're on." She looked down a bit. "Sorry… I didn't mean to weird you out."

A slow smile crept over Nick's lips. "Nah… not at all." His smile made Morgan blush a bit and fix her gaze on her gyro. While fiddling with a loose piece of lettuce she chastised herself for behaving like a teenager, but Nick's smile and low Texas drawl seemed to bring it out in her.

He sighed after taking another bite of his hero and resumed talking. "This case is a bit of a weird one though, you got that right. I mean… who shoots Buddhist monks in a temple?"

She couldn't stop her head from snapping up. "Monks? That's the case you're on?"

"Yeah… it's weird too 'cause… it's like they're too trusting or something. I'm finding too many things that don't fit yet."

Morgan realized she was bunching her napkin into a tight ball and relaxed her hand. She took a long sip of peppermint tea to steady herself before speaking up. "If you're not sure about anything you can swing by the lab and I'll see if I can help. I finished the dump swing shift left for Vincent and me so it won't be a problem."

"You're working yourself too hard." Nick took a large bite of his sandwich.

She sighed slowly and put down her gyro, trying to tuck it together tighter. "I just… I want to do more sometimes. This job… it's like you and the others who go into the field are trying to put together a jigsaw. First you have to find the pieces and when you do they're all bent and dirty. So you give them to me to fix them and make sense of them. Once the pieces are fixed you snatch them back and finish the puzzle. I did my part but I feel like I'm left out on the edge of the group."

"But we wouldn't know what to do if you didn't make it clear for us. You're not left out." Nick looked like he had a faint pout on his face. Sometimes he could be such an open book, and also adorable in the same instant.

"I know… but I feel… disconnected. I want to work in the field but..." she looked down and sighed. "It's too much to get into. I love my job but sometimes I want to do more… and doing more scares me."

He wiped his mouth before speaking. "You're scared of… seeing it all?"

Morgan gave a faint smirk, looking up to Nick with slightly wet eyes. He didn't know how it felt for her with her gift, all the pain and agony that surrounded crime scenes. How the recently dead howled and mourned, so lost and confused from being severed from their bodies.

"Something like that."

* * *

Morgan stretched, arching her back slightly as her vertebrae creaked under the movement. To top it off, she rolled her neck, rubbing the side with one hand and letting out a very audible creak.

Vincent winced a bit from his microscope. "Ewwff… you know I hate it when you do that."

"But it feels sooooo goooooodddd…." She pouted back at him playfully.

"No… it feels and sounds creepy." He flicked his pen back and forth then tapped it on his chin. "You know those shoulder massages you give are very effective. Try that."

"Hey, you were wincing in pain and stuck in a hunched over position that day. You keep this up you'll never get another one." Morgan leaned back in her chair before letting out a long yawn. "Aghh… what time is it?"

He glanced at the clock. "Daylight should be creeping up right around now."

Greg suddenly rushed into the lab, gripping a swab in his hand. "Can you guys process this for me? No, wait. Let me use the machine…"

"Is this going to form into a habit, Greg? Doing our work?" Greg looked up and rolled his eyes at Morgan. "I mean not that I mind... unless you're taking our samples…"

Vincent grinned and picked up a print-out, placing it into a folder. "Yeah… you know trace techs can be very territorial. Keep grabbing our work you might lose a hand."

"I'm running on a hunch here. Have a little intra-office comradeship." Greg glanced over his shoulder while preparing his sample. "Look… I think I know what this is but I need confirmation."

"Getting bored with DNA so soon?" Morgan leaned moved closer to him and tried to peek over his shoulder.

Greg finished preparing his sample, turning around with a devastating smirk. "Not in the least. Excuse me."

As he brushed past her Morgan blushed and adjusted her glasses. "Well I hope next time you have something for trace you leave it to us. I'm sure you wouldn't want us snatching DNA from you."

"For you? All you'd have to do is ask." Greg grinned a bit, but it faltered under Morgan's reaction. Her brows were drawn low in anger, but her eyes looked more sad than angry.

'_Hardly a few hours and he still doesn't get it_.' Morgan mentally huffed.

As she turned back to her work, Greg quickly finished putting the sample in mass spectrometer. He moved over to her, glancing up at Vincent who was busy working, then back down to Morgan.

He spoke very softly in her ear. "Actually… I was hoping that I could ask you something."

"Not today." She whispered back with harshness in her tone, trying to concentrate on what she was working on.

He bit his lower lip, pushed his latex covered hands into his pockets and audibly breathed out his mouth. "I just… want you to know I thought about what you said earlier."

Morgan gave a faint nod, but otherwise didn't respond. The two of them didn't speak, not even as the printer whirred to life and spewed out the results of Greg's evidence. He took the sheet and smiled, which faded a bit as he looked up to see her still hunched over her work.

"I'll um… see you guys later. Thanks again…"

"See you man." Vincent called after him as Greg left for Grissom's office. When Greg was out of ear shot he spoke up to his fellow trace lab tech. "Don't let him get to you, he's just nervous around you."

Morgan raised an eyebrow and peeked over to Vincent from her microscope. "Nervous? Around me?"

"Well… you can be a little tough to approach, Morgan. That and you should see the way he looks at you when you have your back turned." He smirked a bit and moved over to pick up another sample for testing.

"Come on… he doesn't…" She looked up to him, Vincent only smiling with a knowing look as he set a sample in the centrifuge. "You're for a real, huh? Well… he might give other girls the same look."

"Maybe… we'll just have to wait and see won't we? I've known Greg a bit longer then you don't forget. Besides… we don't hunt the evidence. We just analyze it."

She couldn't hold back a scoff. "I'm not going to stalk Greg just to know if he gives other girls "the look". It would be just easier to go on a date with someone else."

"Sorry Morgan…" Vincent held up his hands with a grin. "Got my eye on someone else. Though I hear Archie has been developing a bit of a crush on you…"

"See, Vince?" Morgan pointed a test tube at him accusingly. "This is why sometimes I can't stand sharing a lab with you. You're more of a gossip than most women I know."

* * *

Greg rolled his shoulders and paused in his examination of the chewing gum he had been processing for Grissom. He still felt tense, especially after his slight confrontation with Morgan.

'_Stupid stupid stupid… why did I say that…'_ had popped into his head over and over since then. _'I was just joking… I wanted to make her laugh.'_

It did feel good, however, when he had shown up Nick with the paintball sample. He didn't dislike Nick, just felt rather envious at all the females working here who would hold their breath as he walked by or flutter under his smile. Sure Greg made a few of his co-workers of the opposite sex blush and smile, well, save Morgan. He just seemed to upset her. Add in that he had seen her chatting comfortably with Nick, it made his oneupmanship all the sweeter. It was childish, he realized, just like Morgan said.

He hung his head, rubbing his eyes slowly that were starting to sting a bit. He felt hands rest on his shoulders and jumped slightly in his seat. They started to rub his aching muscles and he relaxed a bit, turning to see who it was to get another surprise.

"Mm- Morgan! Hey… um… not that I'm complaining but… what are you doing?" Greg felt his pulse flutter a bit but tried to smile a bit.

Morgan smiled a bit, taking a step back. "Well… you looked tense and I have been told to possess magic fingers. That and you're not the only one who can sneak into other people's labs."

Greg smiled like a boy getting a puppy on Christmas day. After a bit he realized he was staring at her and looked down at his feet, swallowing a bit to hide his embarrassment and trying to stuff down his usual Greg-like comments. Morgan cleared her throat a bit, intertwining her fingers together.

She finally spoke up. "So how was your hunch? Doesn't seem to have slowed the tide of work you have to process."

His head shot up quickly. "It was dead on. Case breaker… well… in my opinion anyway. Nick didn't appreciate being shown up but… eh… can't win them all."

He grinned and Morgan smiled a bit back, shaking her heads. "Boys just love to compete huh? Well I guess that's earned you at least a bit of a shoulder massage."

"Oh please… don't let me stop you fair mistress of the magic fingers." Greg wiggled his fingers before turning around.

"Yeah but… no boasting about this, we clear? This is an earned treat and I'm still the new girl. I'm a lab tech, not a masseuse." She flexed her fingers and started working on the knots that had developed in the back of Greg's neck.

"My lips are sealed. Hmmmm… that is great though."

"Lips aren't sealed, Greg."

"Mmhmm!!"

Morgan shook her head and started working her thumbs in slow circles over the base of his neck, the rest of her fingers loosening the levator scapulae muscle. "You know… we really don't talk much."

"Mmm?"

Her thumbs slid down and started to work on the trapezius muscle over the scapula. "I mean besides all the times you flirted with me."

"Eeemm…"

"I mean… I even got to know Archie and Mandy a bit, but not you."

"Mmm mmm."

"Greg you can answer me with words you know."

"Sorry… keeping my lips sealed. Didn't want you to stop."

Morgan smacked him in the shoulder. "Greg!" She couldn't help letting a giggle escape before covering her mouth.

He smiled, a bit triumphantly and turned to face her. "Made you laugh."

She nodded and smiled. "Yeah… well… you're crazy."

"Have breakfast with me."

Morgan blinked a few times, her smile fading away. She tilted her head a bit and looked at him.

Greg looked down, then back up to her with sincere brown eyes. "I… that's what I wanted to ask you before. I'm sorry about what I said it's just… I dunno. I wasn't being a jerk, I just wanted to make you laugh. I never heard you laugh before… well… until now." He smiled a bit shyly. "It's a nice laugh."

Morgan started wringing her hands a bit. "Breakfast? Um… as friends though, right?"

"Yeah! I mean… that's what I meant before too. You were right we don't talk much so… I mean it might be nice." He smiled with a bit of cockiness. "Besides, if I'm going to keep having to run into your lab we might as well be on good terms."

Her lips turned up into a smile. "Yeah… but I don't want you too comfortable in there. Vince was right, we have to protect our territory."

"Speaking of territory… I think I'm going to need your help on this." Greg motioned to the microscope with his thumb and rubbed the back of his neck with the other hand. "Grissom wanted me to figure out what the guy chewing this gum was eating but I have no idea what this is. This isn't my specialty."

"Be careful Greg, not only is the recluse lab tech territorial, but it also can smell weakness in other lab techs. They might just gobble up the weak ones to preserve strength in the species." Morgan grinned and moved closer to the microscope after he slid off the stool. Greg couldn't help breathing in a faint whiff of her perfume as she passed. Light and floral… but he couldn't place what sort of flower. Whatever it was it was so fresh and clean… even a little familiar.

Morgan pursed her lips a little. "Hmm… this looks familiar. Maybe curry powder?"

"Curry?" Greg was snapped out of his daze.

"Oh yeah. I love Indian and Thai food. Curry itself is actually a blend of spices, but some have leaves from a curry tree… just depends on the region. Stuff like coriander, turmeric… this might be ground cumin but I can't be sure."

"How do you know so much about spices? You cook?" He scratched the back of his head.

"Sometimes… when I have time for it." She sat up straight and smiled at him. "My mom loves cooking all sorts of dishes from all different cultures. I don't have too much time to cook anything special, but sometimes I like to try new things on my days off." She shook her head slowly. "Anyway… it looks like curry powder but you'll want to check the database for comparison to be certain. Not sure about the other substance… that reddish seed… but looks familiar."

"Thanks Morgan… so about… breakfast…" Greg grinned sheepishly and started running his hand through his hair.

Morgan fixed her glasses and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she backed up towards the door. "Maybe. I'm not sure about today though… I have something to do after work."

"Oh… okay. Cool. See you around." He looked down at his feet, trying to ignore the embarrassment he felt.

She rolled her eyes and leaned in from the doorway. "That's not a no you mopey puppy." Morgan shook her head in amusement and left Greg behind with a grin.

**

* * *

A/N:**_ And first chapter, down!! I'm going to try to update, but I have this story, _The Lost Commodore _and__ a Mass Effect story that all are being worked on. Not to mention classes are still going on, and one class needs a HUGE amount of studying. I'll try my sweet readers, but I can't promise anything._

_Just two quick points of clarification. _

_1) Morgan was in no way influenced in any form by the character in the fanfiction _Facing Grave Danger_. I didn't even get the name from there. I respect Alexandra Khayman's work and want this understood. I got the first name from Morgan Le Fay who I always felt was unjustly viewed. While her acts against her half-brother was indeed in some cases despicable, I feel like her story was left untold._

_2) Yes, you can get gyro slices. Atleast I can, at a grocery near where I live. Yes, they are yummy and also sell cucumber sauce to go with it. I put this in as a bit of a hint towards Morgan's New York origins which won't come into the story until later. There are quite a few good gyro stands in NYC that got me, as well as Morgan, hooked on the yummy sandwich._

_3)I know episode 2x17 was originally aired in 2002, but let's pretend it's six years ahead (2008) to get consistencies of technology and such straight. I really, really do not want to go back and research if something was released in 2002 or not. It's very annoying and this isn't a period piece._

_That's all my lovelies! Hope to hear feedback from you. Reviews would be lovely, and I'm always eager to hear what people think. Take care, and now with the writer's strike over, let's hope for some new episodes fast!!!_

_P.S. Updated 3/03/2008_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _I felt like putting something up on leap-year day. My _'Lost Commodore'_ stuff isn't ready just yet, so here's more for this story! I'm kinda let down not so many people read this... but it seems like there's alot of updates and such going on under the CSI tab. I really like this story and hope you guys out there like it too. Enjoy, and reviews are most welcome!_

* * *

Morgan rubbed her lower back and groaned. It was already a bit past the end of her shift, but she still wanted to stay longer. She didn't have to- mainly only the field CSIs and supervisors ran overtime into the next shift to finish up their cases. If they did stay overtime, the next lab shift would handle any analysis they needed. Morgan wasn't needed as soon as the next shift stepped into the room, unless a large amount of evidence was dumped in her lap close to the end of shift. Day shift loved it when she would stick around longer so they wouldn't be bothered with what wasn't "their case".

Vincent had left for home 10 minutes ago, and the day shift brat was grating Morgan to her last nerve. She felt in her gut that whatever happened with the monks was probably solved, and she certainly wouldn't find out anything if she stayed in her lab. Then again, her gut was under stress due to a certain annoying day-shift lab tech whining over Morgan using "his" microscope.

In the end she gave up and went straight for the locker room. She never, ever liked the fact that the locker room was unisex. All of her co-workers were very respectable to her, but she felt her neck flush when she caught a member of the opposite sex changing clothes. Hell, even in female only locker rooms she felt embarrassed about being naked around strangers. There was just some sides to your co-workers she wasn't ready to see.

The worst was when she caught Archie in just a towel after taking a shower, who figured that he could get changed fast enough before another co-worker enter the room. They couldn't make eye contact for several days after that. Finally Archie got her to come around by teasing that he would have worked out more if he had known about their brush encounter ahead of time. Morgan blushed but giggled, joking back and resuming their normal interactions again.

She opened her locker and leaned her head against the metal frame. Her body was just too exhausted from lack of action and her brain was begging for sleep. Home would have to wait, however, since she had made a promise to visit the temple the monks were residents of… and murdered in. Morgan peeled off her lab coat and hung it on a hanger she kept in the locker just for it. She undid the top few buttons of her blouse, badly wanting to just peel off her work clothes and slip into a comfortable t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. In fact, she kept a set of such clothes in her locker, but never got comfortable enough to change. She bit her lower lip, worrying it as she turned over the idea of maybe changing her clothes in a bathroom stall.

A loud clang from behind her pulled Morgan from her thoughts, causing her to jump and quickly see the source of the noise. Nick stood at his locker, well, Morgan assumed it was his locker, looking sheepishly up at her reaction.

"Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to startle you."

If it was anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes at the oozing sweetness. But that was Nick, and with him, unlike most other men, being sweet wasn't an act to get into a girl's pants. She knew that he was just a generally sweet, kind-hearted man. Morgan didn't know if she wanted to berate him for being so cute or just growl in frustration from wanting to cuddle him. She opted to stay quiet and contain herself.

"I just was a little lost in thought."

"Tough day?" he turned back to his locker and started to pull off his sweater inadvertently.

'_God, you don't make it easy Stokes.'_ Morgan silently thought to herself, shaking her head and looking away.

"Just a har- h- half maddening day." She turned quickly and hid her face in the locker, trying to control the burning in her cheeks. Lewd innuendo danced in her brain from a stirred libido, which she managed to smack down with a semblance of self control. "Seemed to linger longer then it should, I guess." Self control hadn't fully stamped out libido, but was definitely winning.

"Yeah, I hear that." Poor Nick was oblivious to Morgan's reactions. She heard the rustling of fabric, and while wincing her eyes shut she groped in her locker for her spare set of clothes. "Ran down a few leads that were red herrings. It ended up being someone who worked at the temple."

"The monk case?" Morgan spun around; her interest in his words overpowered any embarrassment.

"Yeah. Sad though." He pulled on a fresh t-shirt, glancing over his shoulder to her. "Seems the guy only did it since he was caught stealing and thought the monks were going to turn him in. Killed over a lousy grand."

Morgan looked down, feeling rage bubbling inside of her. "Bastard. They didn't… they were good people I'm sure. They probably wouldn't have even cared about the stolen money. They didn't deserve it."

Nick shrugged a bit, turning to face her fully. "No one deserves to die. But that's why we're here, to stop the people who did the wrong."

She just closed her eyes and nodded, clutching her change of clothes to her chest.

"Morgan, you uh, want me to stand out by the door while you get dressed?" he pointed over towards the door with his thumb.

"Huh?" She looked up suddenly, her mixture of sadness and anger had displaced in her mind what she was doing in here. Morgan looked down to see where his eyes were resting, at the bundle of clothes she clutched to her body. She looked up, blushing a bit. "Do you mind, Nick? I really hate changing in public rooms. Makes me feel too exposed."

"Not a problem. Let me just finish up and I'll watch the door for you." Nick smiled ever so charmingly, making Morgan glad her back was pressed to the lockers. The way her knees jittered slightly under that smile was best not revealed to Mr. Stokes.

"Thanks, I really mean it. Even at home after I shower I just run to my bedroom and slam the door." She turned red after giving away a bit too much information, but Nick just laughed politely.

"That shy, huh? Awright, I'll lock down the entrance for ya." He grinned a bit towards her as he closed his locker and headed for the door. Morgan heard it swing shut, and Nick called out, "All clear!"

She shook her head slowly; still red at the thought that Nick was still close by. The thought of him peeking on her while she changed was far-fetched, but the idea of being so vulnerable to someone that drew reactions out of her so easily made her face flush. She pulled off her work clothes quickly, stuffing them disorderly into her bag. Morgan never even got fully undressed, just replacing what article got removed with a clean alternative.

She pulled on her sneakers and breathed out, feeling more comfortable now. She reached up and untied her ponytail, letting long dark chocolate strands finally loose. Morgan felt some of the tension across her skull relax, removed her glasses from her face and started to run a brush through her long hair.

"Okay Nick, you can stop guarding the locker room." She called out as she started to undo a tricky knot.

The door swung open again, and he spoke as he walked back in. "Sure, just let me grab my- whoa."

Morgan glanced up at Nick, well, she assumed was Nick. He looked rather blurry to her at the moment, but she could make out his shape vaguely. "Your what?"

"Okay, now there was a co-worker of mine in here who wanted her privacy. I don't know how you got in here or where she disappeared to… " he started to walk closer, coming a bit more into focus. So did the cheeky smile on his face.

"Very funny Mr. Stokes. I'm sure then if such was the case, you make a very lousy guard." She smirked and rolled her eyes, turning away to continue brushing out her disagreeable hair.

"You look… really different without your glasses. And with your hair down…" He reached out for a moment, like he was going to touch her hair, but his hand quickly went down.

"I do? It's just easier to tie it back… sometimes it gets in the way when I work. As for my glasses… contacts sound a bit uncomfortable and I don't like anything close to my eyes. I have enough trouble with eye drops."

"It's quite a difference..." He spoke softly, sending tingles down Morgan's spine.

She turned to him, surprised at how thoughtful his face looked. Morgan set down her brush and picked up her glasses. "So you're saying these make me look dorky?"

He shook his head, a small frown forming on his lips reflexively. "No… it's just, you shouldn't hide your eyes."

She felt her stomach tighten. She could read his aura, but she felt it to be an invasion of privacy while dealing face to face with that person. Was Nick flirting with her, or just complimenting her? Either way it made her nervous with not being used to his attention, and certainly not from a man that would make any woman sigh as he passed. To Morgan, she was wearing rather plain clothes, though even her bland relaxation clothes she liked to keep clean and neat. Her jeans were a bit on the baggy side around her calves and not really worn, while her t-shirt was just a pale green v-neck. Nothing that was terribly enticing or sexy, at least in her opinion, but a stark contrast to what all of her co-workers normally saw as her attire. She typically wore a nice buttoned blouse and a bland colored skirt with a hemline that just grazed her knees.

Morgan's heart hammered none the less as she pulled on her glasses and with it a stoic mask. "I'll keep that in mind." She grabbed her bag, making a quick sweep with her eyes that nothing important was left in her locker before closing it, and started to move past him. "Thanks Nick, I'll bring you something nice for lunch to repay you. Take care."

"Yeah…." Was all she heard as a response as she left a confused Nick scratching the back of his head.

Morgan was more than happy to get out of that awkward situation, but it still left her heart pounding a bit too quickly for her to be happy.

* * *

After taking a peek at the case file, Morgan had learned the address of the Buddhist temple where the monks were murdered.

'_No,'_ she shook her head and corrected her thoughts. _'Where they lived.'_

Right now she was driving to the address she found in the case file in her worn Honda Civic. It puttered along angrily at having to vary from its usual commute home. Morgan's fingers drummed on the steering wheel as she glanced down at the address for the seventh time. She was on the right street but didn't see anything resembling a temple just yet. Finally it came into view and she started searching for a place to park nearby.

As she stepped closer to the entrance, she couldn't help noticing how familiar it felt. It was similar to when she first encountered the monks, soothing and even a bit otherworldly. She moved further inside after removing her shoes, breathing in the fragrant scent of incense that drifted through the air. There was a gold statue of Buddha with a few money trees on the side. Her feet glided over the wood floor of the entrance, and candles as well as the late morning sun lit the room. Morgan felt her mind relax and the tension of the day just slip away.

"Welcome. Can I help you?" A voice roused her from her state. Morgan turned to see a monk, similar to the others she had seen in her vision. He was a bit younger then she had expected.

"Just… needed a place to think." She wrung her hands a bit nervously. The monk bowed his head a bit. Morgan sighed and looked down at the floor. "This is hard to explain, and… I haven't really talked about it much."

The monk nodded and motioned to a veil covered archway. "We are always willing to listen. If you would like, we might speak in here."

Morgan nodded and stepped past the veil. The room was like the previous, only smaller and with a small low table at the center. She kneeled down and sat one side of the table, resting her hands in front of her. The monk moved and sat gracefully across from her.

"I'm with the crime lab, but that's not why I'm here. For a long time, I've had this… ability. When people don't die naturally, it's a powerful force that rips through the spiritual world. The ripping of soul from body prematurely makes ripples that spread like waves through the area, and if one is sensitive to these things they can feel the tearing. When your fellow monks were killed earlier… I felt it. I saw them.

"There are other… abilities I have." She sighed before continuing. "Seeing auras, influencing essence, things like that. I just… I don't know how to function with this. Some times I want to push it all away."

The monk absorbed all this, making sure that she was finished before speaking. "Some things are revealed to us, if we are willing to see. You have been made able to see, but not totally willing."

Morgan nodded and swallowed hard, feeling tears threaten to spill over. "It's not that I don't want to help. I do… I wish these horrible things in the world wouldn't happen. But… they… the dead… most of the time they just… th- their pain is so great they just howl and scream." She shivered a bit. "I can't handle it sometimes."

"Suffering in the world is unavoidable. Without it there is no compassion. Perhaps by seeing those who suffer that pass by unnoticed by many, you can help them?"

"How?"

"By giving them the compassion the ones who took their lives denied them."

* * *

Morgan woke from the sound of her iHome blaring the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack somewhere close to her head. She growled and flipped over, smacking at the top of the unit until it was silenced. Blinking blearily she made out the time by squinting her eyes and forcing them to focus. She had more than enough time before her shift started, but was always slow moving when she first got up. Blinking and sitting up, she reached around for her glasses. Holding her chin with one hand she went over earlier in the day.

After visiting the temple the monks had lived at, she spoke at great length with the monk Ananda. He had stepped out when the murders occurred. They talked about her ability, how it was triggered, and such. Ananda thought that she might gain greater clarity and mastery over her ability through the aid of meditation. She felt completely comfortable with him, like a long lost teacher. In fact, Morgan admitted to him that she felt the departed monks had somewhat guided her to the temple for help.

She shook her hair out and yawned slowly. She spent a lot of time learning the basics of meditation, and Ananda had even given her some incense before she finally went home and collapsed in exhaustion. Morgan always felt she could use more sleep when she woke up against her will.

The warm shower helped her wake up further, and after her second cup of tea she felt more herself. While opening the fridge in hopes of preparing breakfast, she spotted the sliced lamb package which sparked her memory.

"Oh crud. I have to make Nick lunch." Morgan muttered aloud. It wasn't the idea of cooking for someone else; it was so quickly rushing head first to Nick… especially after their very awkward encounter.

Her brow crinkled in irritation and she rubbed it away. First Vincent, then Archie, and now Greg and Nick. How many co-workers did she have to get friendly with? Morgan was not an unfriendly person, just not very good at social interaction. Even before the emergence of her gift she was often the odd one out. Now with the bombardment of emotions from the living and even sometimes the dead, socializing was very difficult.

If she didn't have enough control over herself, brushing accidentally against an enraged person send pulses of anger through her mind. The absolute worst was when she once got too close to a storage locker in college that students were getting "hot and heavy" while she was on the way to class. It took all her self control not to squirm during the lecture, and afterwards not jump her professor when he had to talk to her. Her control was quite good now, using the way she would distance herself from others to distance uninvited emotions. However, it seemed she was developing a social life without her consent.

"Oh well." Morgan sighed while pulling out the package of lamb meat. "Welcome to the human race, I guess."

* * *

Driving to work was blissfully uneventful, with the sun had settled lower in the sky but not close to setting just yet. She parked her car and turned off the engine, unable to avoid looking at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Morgan sighed and studied herself carefully, having taken a different approach to her appearance this day.

She couldn't help having what Nick said in the locker room affect her, about her hair and glasses. The truth was she liked to keep her looks bland and unassuming, enabling her to avoid social confrontations. Her ponytail was simple and easy to maintain, plus with the added benefit that it never attracted attention. Glasses felt like a barrier she could maintain between her and the world, a bit of a safety blanket for Morgan. In the spirit of change, however, she had tried something different. A set of contacts that were her prescription, a buy she never fully intended to use, had replaced her sturdy black frames and currently itched slightly in her eyes. She struggled with blow drying her hair out for over thirty minutes and tried to ensure it didn't frizz out with some salon goop, a moving away present from a friend. Everything else about her was the same, she might have put a bit more then her usual faint dusting of makeup on but her outfit was generally unchanged from her normal work attire.

Morgan sighed and finally got out of her car, sliding the strap of her bag onto her shoulder as she closed the car door. Clipping her ID to her blouse, she entered the police station with her heart pounding uncomfortably in her chest. She didn't seem to attract any unwanted attention, but felt her stomach turn at a uniformed officer whose gaze followed her as she walked past.

It was early, so most of the graveyard shift hadn't come on just yet. Morgan noticed this as she clocked in, and headed straight for the break room. Smiling a bit to herself, she pulled two sandwiches out of her bag and placed them inside the refrigerator. She had written Nick's name on his sandwich and made sure it faced the door of the fridge.

She continued to allow the faint smile to grace her lips and made her way to the locker room. A few members of the previous shift were leaving as she made her way inside. It wasn't terribly long before Morgan had deposited her bag and wrapped herself in the familiar security of her lab coat. As she approached the door to leave and head for her lab, the door swung open and revealed Archie.

"Oh excuse me… Morgan?" his simple apology turned into a baffled question at the end.

Morgan grimaced internally. Did her few changes really made a difference? She knew she would have to deal with the damned observant nature of criminalists.

"Hey Archie. In early too?" she smiled as pleasantly as she could muster.

He scratched the back of his head, messing his black hair up that still looked perfect despite his efforts. "Yeah… just uh… have a lot of security tapes left over. You look like a different person without your glasses and all."

Morgan made a quick mental diagnosis of her options: she could be curt, yet polite, and leave Archie in the locker room, she could stay and talk with Archie and deal with his not-to-subtle crush on her, she could run past him and flee, or she could change topics and rely on Archie's fellow nerdliness.

"Hey Archie, have you heard about the Star Trek movie by JJ Abrams?"

Archie's eyes lit up, and the two lab rats felt the cloud of unease lift from them. Morgan's plans for starting early were slightly detoured by her diversion, but the loss of tension was well worth it for her. When they parted in the hallway, Vincent was already in the lab with a smirk on his face.

Morgan's cheeks burned as she walked over where evidence was usually dropped off in the lab. "What? What are you so smug about?"

"Hmm… not sure which is more amusing… your new look or the fact that you seemed so happy talking to Archie." Vincent raised an eyebrow as Morgan snapped on her latex gloves.

"I just… wanted to try something different. That against policy?" She pulled out a marked container and got it prepared for analysis.

He started preparing a slide for the microscope while shrugging, playing it nonchalant. "No… but strange how it coincides with a planned meal with Sanders."

She winced a bit. _'Oh crap… I said I would and I totally forgot about that today. Maybe I didn't… oh man, my brain is working without notifying me.'_

"Damn it… I almost forgot." She pinched the brow of her nose, wishing badly she had her glasses on at the moment. "Well… it's just breakfast… right?"

Vincent gave Morgan a knowing look that made her desperately wish she hadn't crawled out of bed. She didn't want to stand Greg up, but she hoped that she could gather up some courage before the end of her shift. Burying herself in work usually made her forget her worries, but that would just put off the inevitable. She pushed a few stray hairs out of her face and let out a slow breath, hoping Greg didn't need to run into the trace lab as much as he did the other day.

* * *

Most of the shift felt routine to Morgan, at least, she tried to convince herself of that. She pushed out of her mind the double-take Warrick made when he dropped off some evidence from a robbery-homicide. She put down Catherine's admiration for her change as just friendly female chatter, and ignored Sara's slight eyebrow raise. She was endlessly grateful that Grissom didn't have any opinion, or if he did he was excellent at keeping any reaction hidden.

She didn't run into Nick or the other lab rats while she worked, but Morgan had a feeling that would end when she went for lunch. She and Vincent liked to make sure someone was in the lab at all times incase something was needed. They would take breaks at different times, and she let Vincent eat first before heading to the break room for her own meal. Typically around mid-shift they couldn't take badgering one another any longer, even though it was all in good fun.

Morgan stretched, her satin blue blouse stretching and wrinkling with her movements. Sitting at her microscope for so long made her back stiffen and her neck cramp up terribly, and for some reason as good as she was at giving massages it made her equally critical of those who massaged her. Strange. However, her body was currently grateful for the movement that her break provided. She took a turn into the break room and saw both Nick and Warrick seated at a table across from each other, eating and talking. The two were engrossed in their conversation, not really noticing as she slipped past them and over to the fridge. With a glance over her shoulder she noticed that Nick happened to be enjoying the gyro she left for him. She blushed a bit, strangely pleased over him eating a meal she made, and she ducked her head into the fridge to search for her own lunch.

Warrick and Nick were laughing about something or another when Morgan peeked out from the fridge with her gyro and soda. Warrick glanced over to where she was standing at the sound of the fridge door closing, his eyebrows lifting in… well… what Morgan guessed was approval.

"Oh hey… um… Morgan right?" he called out to her.

She felt her muscles tense up instantly and was caught like a deer in headlights. She smiled a bit and nodded ever so slightly, a few errant strands of hair sliding out from behind her ear. "Hi, Warrick. Nick."

Nick had looked up when Warrick had called out her name. His brow relaxed as he looked her over, at least trying to seem subtle about it but still making Morgan terribly self-conscious. She felt like two pairs of eyes were pinning her to the spot, and was thankful that her gift didn't kick in reflexively as it was known to at stressful times.

Nick finally cleared his throat a bit and spoke up. "Hey. Thanks again for the sandwich."

"Sure, well, I said I would after you helped me out." She smiled a bit and took a step closer to a different table. "Well, I don't want to interrupt you two."

"Nah it's cool. Come join us." Nick reached over and pulled out the chair that was between Warrick and himself.

Morgan bit her lower lip, letting it slowly draw away from her teeth before acquiescing. "Sure."

She sat down, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her, and placed her lunch down on the tabletop. Morgan unwrapped her gyro and looked up to Warrick. "I hope that those samples were helpful for your case."

Nick looked back and forth between her and Warrick. "Uh yeah. Actually, I think we had to double check something back at the scene, right Warrick?"

Warrick lowered his eyebrows then suddenly lifted them as if he realized something. "Right… yeah… I'd better head down there. I'll see you later."

He had finished most of his meal anyway, so he picked up the aluminum container and plastic cover of his Chinese food, clearing his spot and leaving quickly. Nick seemed to relax a bit and smiled. "See ya 'round, man."

"Later."

Morgan popped open her ginger ale which fizzled in response. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to intrude" she softly muttered, feeling like she was the cause for Warrick's rushed exit.

Nick almost jumped in his seat, leaning forwards and reassuring her quickly. "No no… we were just talking about the case and I remembered… that's all."

"Oh… well… I hope you like your lunch." She smiled softly and took a bite of her own.

"Yeah… you didn't have to do that, Morgan." He picked up what was left of his gyro and smiled back.

Morgan pushed back her hair behind her ear and felt her stomach flutter a bit. "I said I would, didn't I? Besides… you didn't have to make sure no one came into the locker room… but you did."

"Just being a gentleman." Nick broke out into a smile and took a large bite out of his gyro, getting closer to finishing it.

She had to change the conversation fast before her heart leapt out of her throat. Food seemed like a safe topic "See? Isn't homemade better than fast food?"

He chuckled. "Hey that was a deli hero… not some junky gulp 'n go."

"Alright… I'll give you that. But homemade just about always wins."

"True."

Morgan grinned, feeling comfortably smug. "If you think this is good, you should see some of the meals I make on my days off."

"Really? I might just take that invitation." Nick grinned smugly and popped the last bite into his mouth, licking his fingers clean of lamb juice.

She started to choke, coughing on her gyro and quickly grabbed her soda. Nick reached over, quite shocked and touching her shoulder to see if she was alright. Morgan waved him off while drinking more of her soda to wash it down. She felt foolish for setting herself up like that, and didn't know how to react. If it kept up like this, any further increased social interactions would end up killing her.

"Jeez… you alright?" he looked at her, worried, and still holding her shoulder.

"Y- yeah. You just… just surprised me." Her eyes watered slightly and her contacts felt even more irritated. _'Damn, I was just starting to get used to them too…'_ she thought ironically.

His brow relaxed and he drew his thumb in small circles around her shoulder. "Damn… don't scare me like that. I might get put on probation for accidentally killing a co-worker."

Morgan let out a laugh that caused a few more coughs, but still continued laughing, wiping away the tears that had built up in her eyes. "Yeah… I can see Dr. Robbins now. "It appears she choked on her gyro. Death caused by conversation with co-worker." Only I would go that way…"

"Aww c'mon. Is it that awful talking to me?" Nick pulled his hand away slowly from her.

She let out another laugh, the redness in her face from her previous choking managed to hide the faint blush he caused. "No no… It's not you. It's me… all me. I'm really bad at talking to people sometimes."

"I think you were doing fine…" he paused and smirked a little. "…until the choking of course."

"Well, thank you. It's very reassuring to know the effort wasn't wasted."

Nick crumbled up the wax paper his gyro had been wrapped in and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Well… now it seems like I owe you one. Causing a near-death experience 'n all."

Morgan looked up to him wearily. "Sure we can't just call it even?"

Nick stood and went to toss his trash in the garbage can. "I figure if I'm gonna nearly kill ya again the least I can do is get to know 'ya first."

She laughed again, and then quickly covered her mouth as Gil Grissom, both her and Nick's shift supervisor walked in. Nick didn't notice Grissom as quickly as Morgan did, so he was surprised to hear his voice coming from behind him.

"Nick… if you're going to cause the death of any lab techs, the least you can do for me is find me a suitable replacement first." He raised an eyebrow over his glasses and lowered the clipboard he was holding.

"Glad to be only slightly irreplaceable, sir." Morgan smiled from her seat and propped up her chin with the hand she tried to stifle her laughter with earlier.

"Good to know. Nick, Brass is bringing a suspect in for questioning on the robbery-homicide you and Warrick are working. If you're done testing the mortality of lab techs I hope you can head over to interrogation."

"I'll head right down there, Grissom." Nick slid his hands into his jean pockets sheepishly, glancing over to Morgan briefly.

Grissom nodded, and Morgan could detect a bit of a smile in his eyes before he departed. When he was out of hearing range, Nick turned back to her.

"I should get going but… I'll figure a way to make it up to you."

Morgan sighed a bit, her playfulness dripping away quickly. "You don't-"

"I want to." He interrupted her with a firm look. It softened quickly and he continued. "I know a lot of people who work here… I don't know you though."

She felt a knot form in her throat. Her gaze quickly fixed on the ground, but she managed to nod and softly whisper. "I guess… that's okay."

A half smile formed on Nick's lips, he grabbed the soda he had been nursing through lunch and left. Morgan sunk in her chair after she left, feeling horribly confused and not terribly hungry any longer. Any confidence she had worked up during her shift to deal with Greg vanished, leaving her nervous at the prospect of spending time with Nick.

'_It's just to get to know each other, right? Just like with Greg… no big deal. They aren't asking you on a date or something.'_ Morgan thought to herself sternly. She felt her shoulder droop more. _'Damn it… why the hell am I so horrible at reading men when it comes to this sort of crap??' _She eyed the tabletop longingly and considered banging her head against it to silence the barrage of thoughts that floated around Greg, Nick, and herself.

'_Why did I ever have to promise myself not to read auras unless totally necessary?? This qualifies, right? Right?!'_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Yay! Another chapter! C'mon guys, review. I want to know what you guys think, all 10 of you reading it. Seriously, feedback is totally appreciated. Anyway, in this chapter we get some more intense investigation and more of Morgan's backstory. Plus, more Greg, more food, and more tension! BWAHAHAH!!!_

* * *

After Nick left it took Morgan a good ten minutes to work up the courage to finish the day. It wasn't so much the work she had to do, but that looming eventuality that came after work. She really wasn't the sort of person to blow off someone else, especially not after making a promise. Well, some form of promise. She never actually said "yes" to Greg, but his reaction when he thought she was saying no made her feel like she just kicked a puppy. Maybe not that bad, but still. 

On her return to the lab Vincent was kind enough not to mention her paled face and quiet demeanor. Morgan was endlessly grateful for that, and tried to absorb herself in work as she always would. It was simple, rather routine, and had its challenging moments of frustration. The evidence talked to her quietly, like a friend who was embarrassed and not wanting to tell you the details of a bad experience. You just had to soothingly work it, drawing out small bits and pieces with the right motivation, and finally putting together what it was trying to say between the lines. She felt like a good friend then, even if it was mostly with inanimate objects.

It was between pieces of evidence she realized that this was forming into some sort of bad work habit. Not so much the relationship Morgan formed with inanimate objects she had to identify, although that she might have to work on later. She would work herself harder when she became stressed out; driving whatever bothered her out of her mind so she became blank. It was alright for the moment, but what happened when she wasn't at work? Or worse, when whatever she had to deal with returned?

It didn't seem that time and exposure was working so far. Each time she had to deal with Greg or Nick she would come out shaky and worse for the wear, having to strain her mind over what to do or say, or what really they were trying to say to her. Just when Morgan was starting to get comfortable either of them would hit her with something she wasn't prepared for. It was so frustrating she wanted to cry but it felt like that wouldn't help much either.

But she had to keep going. Hiding like this wasn't healthy, and as her gift slowly grew stronger she became thrust into a world she had to be part of. Staying quietly in the shadows wasn't going to work any longer. Maybe that's why the monks appeared to Morgan here, at what she used to conceal herself in.

So it was time to make a leap of her own volition. Morgan finished her work and said goodbye to Vincent before making her to the DNA lab. She peeked inside to find Greg leaning over the genetic analyzer's print out, stepping away only to pace back and forth. She leaned against the door way and smiled a bit. He always had this spark of youthful exuberance to him that was undeniably charming. Sure, sometimes his music would cause the glass walls of the lab to tremble, but he did it out of playfulness and not just wanting to test the other tech's patience.

It wasn't until Greg's fifth pass in front of the printer before he noticed he had company. He did a quick double take and then his eyes lit up in recognition. He gave a wide smile and leaned back, but since that was against the genetic analyzer it jostled under his weight. Greg stood up surprised and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to cover his embarrassment.

"Are you lost ma'am? I'm pretty sure a lovely woman like yourself wouldn't grace this petty DNA lab." He flashed a toothy grin.

Morgan blushed and chuckled, lowering her gaze to the floor and shuffling her feet slightly. "I don't find it petty at all. In fact, the inhabitants seem quite friendly. Even mentioned something once about breakfast?"

"Did they now?" Greg took a step forwards and if it was possible seemed even cockier. "Well, I'm certain that this humble," he bowed slightly forwards at the word 'humble' and continued, "lab tech would be most privileged to escort you to a fine meal as soon as-"

The printer whirred to life, interrupting Greg and spewed forth its results behind him. He spun on his heel quickly causing Morgan to giggle a bit and snatched up the paper. Quickly scanning it and signing his name on the bottom, Greg tossed it into his finished work pile and turned back to Morgan.

"I do so hate interruptions." He lowered his eyebrows seriously.

She laughed a bit and tried to look him in the eye. "C'mon Greg. Enough with that, let's go eat."

Greg motioned to adjust a non-existent tie, stepping over to Morgan and holding out his arm for her to hook her own around. "What the lady wants, the lady gets."

The two quickly clocked out and made use of the locker room. Morgan even felt brave enough to change her clothes, in the ladies restroom of course, and brush out her hair. It didn't take too much of her time, but Greg still playfully teased about women and how long they take in the bathroom. She blushed and pushed him lightly in a faux reprimand. Leaving work was a bit awkward, since Morgan wanted to drive her car but Greg insisted on driving her and that the employee parking lot was perfectly safe. It took a great deal of convincing, but she finally caved in and they went to Frank's Restaurant.

Frank's wasn't exactly what most would consider gourmet, but had decent enough food, an appropriate level of cleanliness, and was consistently cheap for a CSI's payroll. The best part was you could get breakfast at all hours and not have to deal with many tourists, since it was still far enough from the strip. Morgan had never been brave enough to sample what Frank's offered, but it seemed that Greg had been a customer a few times.

They both slid into opposing sides of a booth, Morgan a bit forlorn at how the table came up a little too high for her liking. She glanced across to Greg who's height gave him better access to, well, everything.

"I hate being short." she muttered softly as she slumped into her seat a bit.

"You're not short." Greg responded and received a slight glare from Morgan. "Not really. I'm a bit tall… I guess. Now, if you want short, you should see my Nana Olaf. Barely five foot anymore!" She laughed and Greg continued with a grin. "But then again she is in her 80s. She never was tall though. I'm glad my mother inherited Papa Olaf's height."

"Yeah… I'm not so lucky. My whole family is a bit on the shorter end of the stick. My mother got a bit upset when I became taller then her. She still asks me to reach for things when I visit." She chuckled and shook her head.

The waitress interrupted them and placed down two menus. "You two want something to drink?"

Greg took the menus, passing one to Morgan politely. "Ah… coffee for me."

"Just a glass of milk. Skim if you could, please." Morgan smiled and looked up to the waitress.

The waitress scribbled onto her notepad. "Sure thing. I'll go get that while you two look over your menus."

After she left Greg turned to Morgan with his eyebrows raised. "Milk?"

"I can't stand coffee." She grimaced a bit at the thought of unsweetened coffee. Greg just looked more surprised. "Far too bitter for me. I doubt they have decaf tea… and as for the milk… well… I never stopped drinking it as a child. It's tasty and healthy anyway."

"You don't like coffee?? Whoa… I didn't think anyone who worked graveyard could refuse a hot cup of coffee." Greg leaned back in the booth, still slightly astonished.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Well, we aren't all caffeine addicts like you, Greg. If I need a little boost I'll drink tea." She looked around conspiratorially before whispering. "Although sometimes I enjoy a mocha Frappuccino now and then." She pressed her index finger to her lips. "Sshh. Don't tell anyone."

Greg laughed and shook his head. "Alright, your secret's safe with me." He looked back to the menu with a slight smirk still on his face. "Hey you mentioned visiting your parents… where are you from anyway?"

She lifted up her own menu and looked over the breakfast choices. Pancakes called to her, but she didn't want to indulge herself so utterly in front of Greg. Not just yet. "Uh… New York."

"Really? No kidding, I lived there for a bit!" Greg almost leapt out of his seat. Morgan jumped a bit as his eager response, mentally reminding herself not to let Greg get so excited in the future.

"Oh? Um… did you like it?" Morgan glanced up to him from her menu.

He put down his menu and sighed with an almost wistful tone. "It was great. So much to do, like here I guess but without all the fun stuff having to be in hotels. Just as crazy as Vegas though, with the clubs and everything. Only thing that really sucked was the cold during the winter."

She smirked. "Baby."

Greg put his hand to his chest defensively. "Ouch! Hey, c'mon I'm not used to the cold like that. I'm from San Gabriel, outside of LA. It never even touches freezing during the winter down there."

"Greg, this is the desert." Morgan leaned over her menu a bit. "It's not hot all the time, it gets cold at night."

"Well yeah. I guess New York prepared me better for it, huh?" he grinned. "You don't sound like a New Yorker though…"

Morgan leaned back in her seat, still trying to decide what to have for breakfast. Damn Greg, he was distracting her too much. "Gee I thought my sunny disposition gave it away. I guess it isn't recognizable if I'm not cursing you out, huh?"

"You certainly have the New York sarcasm down." Greg shook his head with a smile as he made her chuckle a bit. "You sound a bit like Captain Brass, though he's from Jersey and not New York."

"Haven't had the chance to meet him. I never had a problem with people from New Jersey, well, except when they would jam up the George Washington Bridge. After that, I'm not responsible for my actions." She gave a smile, not meeting Greg's eyes as he let out a hearty laugh.

"Wow. Remind me never to piss you off on the road."

"You two ready to order?" The waitress appeared next to their booth unexpectedly.

In fact, until she had spoken up they both hadn't noticed the new cup of coffee and glass of milk on the tabletop. Greg and Morgan looked up guiltily to her, having spent most of the time gabbing and not really paying attention to the menu.

"Uh." Greg gave his most charming grin. "Sorry, we're going to need a bit more time."

"Sure, no problem hun." She smiled and left, leaving the two stifling their giggles as best they could.

Greg propped up his chin with his hand, fingers partially covering his mouth. "We'd better shut up and pick out what to eat. If we keep talking and don't order something soon they might just throw us out."

* * *

When Morgan got home, it was hard to wipe the smile off her face. She actually had a _good_ time with Greg. Not that she thought being around Greg was horrible, but all that anxiety just melted away once they started talking. They took far too long talking and less time eating, and her eggs benedict ended a bit cold due to her neglect. They mostly talked about themselves, about how they ended up where they were and life growing up on their respective coasts. Morgan found laughed easily with Greg, and the only time she felt uncomfortable was when he wanted to pay for dinner/breakfast. They struggled over the check and ended up splitting it, though Greg was left with a slightly bruised ego. Today was the first day she ever felt comfortable enough to call Las Vegas home. 

Speaking of home, Greg seemed a little disappointed that he couldn't drive her home (that man really was relaxed behind the wheel) when Morgan reminded her that her car was still at work. It felt a little strange going back after just leaving, but Greg just smiled and said, "Damn, didn't we just get off work? I always seem to end up here."

Morgan giggled and thanked him, trading cell phone numbers before giving him a wide smile as she parted. She also tried to ignore the fact that Greg didn't leave until she was safely in her car and it was running properly. Even her vehicle sensed her good mood and caused little trouble during the drive back to her apartment.

Normally coming back home was a bit of a relief after a long day of work and awkward social interactions. Morgan only felt excited and a little melancholy, the two conflicting but developed from the same cause. She quickly removed her contacts with a greater speed than she had inserted them and pulled on her glasses. She didn't feel the same level of comfort that they normally provided, but passed over that thought quickly while she swept her hair up in a ponytail.

The rest of the day was quite boring in comparison to the enjoyment she had with Greg. She got together her dirty laundry and pushed it into her washing machine. While it hummed it in the background Morgan went through a box of belongings full of old memories. It had come with her from New York and once she fully settled in she pushed it into the closet and ignored it.

When she pulled open the cardboard flaps, her nose assailed with the familiar scent of her old home. Mostly it was books, a few old pictures, journal and sketchbooks of hers. She flipped through them but had in mind only one object, an old worn leather tome of hers. It was what led Morgan to this place in her life, what opened her eyes to a world so few knew about. She held it to her chest with one hand, pushing the box away with her other before she stood.

The book had some time before, in a way, sparked her gift to fully form. It took some time for her to realize the potential was inside of her prior to reading the book, it just hadn't fully manifested until the tome unlocked it. Morgan wasn't sure who penned it, but it seemed like it had passed more than one hand and others added to the extent of its lore. How she acquired it was quite strange in and of itself. She had walked past an old used bookstore many times on her way to school, since the block just beyond it was her bus stop. Her second freshman semester she gave in to curiosity and finally went inside.

The store was lined with shelves upon shelves; each was over filled with old, worn leather bound books and had creaky wooden ladders that lead up to the highest perched tome. Morgan's first reaction was if she did indeed find anything in here it would cost her a fortune. The proprietor at first seemed absent from the shop, but came soundlessly up behind her when she started to examine the books on the counter top. He had a wide, charming smile with startling green eyes that shined behind round glasses with great intensity. His clothes seemed 50 years out of style, yet wore it all with an air of authority, from his brown button vest to his shined black shoes. Oddly enough, he seemed just under thirty, though he spoke with a soft wise tone that seemed reserved for only older, well-educated men.

He smiled and watched her carefully as she examined in passing the books on the shelves she could reach. Most titles seemed in foreign languages and some looked like very old copies of masterpieces. One book stood out from the rest, subtle at first glance but when Morgan looked at it again it seemed audaciously out of place. The other books near it were comparatively newer, quite large with their gold filigree titles on green leather, while this one was brown and quite worn with no title. In fact, it was dwarfed by its neighboring books though it looked of average size. It sat at the end of a low shelf, almost trying to blend in with the wood it nestled against.

She pulled it out carefully from the shelf, smelling the age as she pulled it away from the other books. When Morgan turned back to the proprietor his smile looked more like a grin and a sparkle of some emotion twinkled behind his eye. She returned to him and the register and asked how much the book was. He leaned over the counter and took the book from her hands slowly, flipping through the pages and glancing up to her.

"For you? Free." He spoke with that warm tone of his that gave her shivers on reflection. "This book has been here a while, and I've been unsuccessful in selling it for some time. I'm glad that it finally has gotten some attention with the right person."

She didn't understand what he meant, but took the book and smiled back. When Morgan returned home and finally opened it, her life was irreversibly changed forever. Energy poured out of the tome and into her mind breaking open the barrier that had formed over years of living with the mundane. It took all her effort to slam the book shut, and wept over the images and sensations barraging her. She took off from school the next day.

When she finally managed to gain some control over herself and the images did not cause as such intense pain, she left her house for the bookstore. Morgan wanted to grab the man and demand an answer as to what happened, but her questions were left unresolved. The store was closed and vacant, and in fact, seemed like it had not been used in many years. She asked a man at a nearby newsstand when the shop was last opened, and he admitted he could not recall in the last 20 years he worked there it ever being used. It left Morgan exposed to a new world she barely felt ready for with a guide she was hesitant to use.

But perhaps now was the time to bring purpose to the strange tome. After lighting the incense Ananda had given her the other night, she stretched out on the bed and opened the book slowly. She could feel the same blast and whirl of energy hitting the center of her forehead. It didn't feel as intense as the first time she opened the book, but it still bothered her. Morgan shifted uncomfortably, breathing slowly and concentrating the shifting words in front of her. She went over the words, focusing until they slowly melted into meaning.

It felt like ages until the washing machine buzzed, and she had to push the book away. Her head ached and she had to take a few minutes to steady herself before Morgan could make her way over to the washing machine and dryer. She took out the wet clothes and stuffed it into the dryer. Her limbs felt heavy and she slowly crawled back to her bed. For some reason all her energy felt drained out of her and her head stuffed with cotton, she had to muster all her will just to place the tome on her bedside table.

When the dryer was done the buzz didn't even wake her from her sleep. Next to her the tome pulsed with powerful energy, and Morgan was lost in confusing dreams of flames licking around her.

* * *

The next morning Morgan awoke in a daze. She barely remembered taking out the tome that stared back at her from her bedside table, and slowly yesterday's events seeped back into her cluttered brain. She made a cup of her homemade medicine before having breakfast and got ready for work. Everything had a strange, slow pace to it while her mind tried to sort things out. She showered and blow dried her hair, and then placed her contacts in with some difficulty. 

She couldn't help eyeing the ancient tome with some suspicion. Every time she tried to decipher words since she received it her body felt drained and nothing made sense. Only when she had some form of resolve did it ever finally boil down to words of meaning, and even then it seemed to make no sense other than an imprint on her mind. Morgan took the book and hid it under her mattress, for at least while she was away at work. She felt a chill run up her spine after parting with the strange book, and being unable to shake it she pulled on a sweater before putting on her coat and headed out.

The cool evening air gave her a boost of strength she desperately needed, and she drove to work feeling more energy than she woke up with. It actually made Morgan feel excited. When she entered the building she didn't even notice the lingering glances of police officers, her mind wound up with other thoughts. She dropped off her belongings in the locker room, shedding her jacket and sweater before sliding into her lab coat. While pulling her hair out from under the collar, she briefly had to fight the urge to tie it back in a ponytail. She forced the uncomfortable sensation of her hair on her neck to the back of her mind.

She ran briefly into Greg and said hello, but there was no time for them to talk in length since Greg desperately needed to drop off some results swing shift had left behind. Morgan entered the empty trace lab, waving to Bobby Dawson in ballistics through the glass wall. They had never talked much but would always respectfully acknowledge one another. Vincent hadn't arrived yet so she pulled on a pair of small latex gloves and got to work in silence.

It was only a little over an hour before it all started. She was quietly flipping through a reference index of fibers while Vincent waited near the mass spectrometer. Greg rushed into the room, excited and slightly out of breath.

"Guys! Major accident on the highway! Grissom says all hands on deck!"

Morgan looked at Greg with a puzzled expression and Vincent raised a brow questioningly. The two trace lab techs looked at each other for a moment before Vincent turned back to the unexpected arrival and broke the silence.

"So? We're lab techs, not field CSI."

That didn't seem to register with Greg as logic. "It's probably a huge site! They'll need all the help they can get."

Morgan scratched the back of her head, and then pushed a stray bit of hair that had fallen in front of her face. "Greg, that's processing a scene. We handle the evidence post process. I understand you want to help Grissom, but I don't want to get fired over bad procedure or bad paperwork on something I wasn't supposed to do."

Vincent snorted under his breath and pulled out the results from the mass spectrometer. Greg ignored his response and implored with huge, puppy dog eyes. "Please Morgan, I really want to do this and I would feel better if I wasn't on my own."

Morgan sighed, glancing down at the floor in thought, then over to Vincent. She was just starting to consider Greg as a friend and didn't want to disturb what they had started to develop. Still, this was an awful lot to ask of her, even if they were chums or whatever, since it might affect her job. You were supposed to help your friends even at the expense of personal sacrifice, right? She let out another slow breath and caved in

"Alright, fine." Damn her weak will. She looked up sharply. "But if we're told to leave we come right back, no arguments. You're gonna so owe me for this… if I get fired I'll personally blame you." She eyed him and her tone took on a dangerous edge. "We Eastern Europeans carry vendettas, you know."

Greg grinned and nodded eagerly. "Right! Right! I get it, all my fault. Pain til end of time. Let's go!"

He rushed out of the lab without another word, and Morgan called after him. "Wait!! I have to change!! I can't handle a crime scene in a pencil skirt and high heels!!!"

"Findley, I just want to say, it's been a pleasure working with you." Vincent spoke up from his station.

She scowled lightly in response. "Don't start. Please. Besides I could use the fresh air. I've been in Vegas almost two months now and I still don't have a tan."

"Ah yes, the scent of blood and motor oil in the air." He waved his hand theatrically before continuing. "So very romantic." Vincent grinned and wiggled his pen back and forth.

Morgan pulled off her gloves and deposited them in the trash. "You just won't let me live this down, will you?"

Vincent was kind enough not to answer that. She hurried to the locker room and quickly shed her lab coat. Morgan changed into her after work clothes in a rush, comfortable in knowing since it was deep into the shift no one would pop in. She even stowed a spare hair tie in her pocket to be safe. If she was going to help process a scene, she was damned well going to be comfortable doing so. Briefly returning to the trace lab to grab a spare box of gloves, then met Greg at the entrance that was pacing rather impatiently.

How Greg knew the location of the crime scene he didn't say. He walked with long strides to his car and eagerly opened the front door for Morgan, still polite in his enthusiasm, and clambered over to the other side quickly. He smiled as the car started, putting on some heavy rock on the radio. Morgan flinched at bit at Greg's loud taste in music, or maybe just since it was playing at such a high volume.

The two traveled mostly in silence, Greg humming along sometimes to a song on the radio the only sound either of them produced. Morgan just looked out at the passing lights of the Strip as they moved further and further from the strange piece of civilization in the middle of a desert. She didn't terribly consider Las Vegas civilized, especially from what she saw in her line of work. Still, Morgan was nervous to break the silence between Greg and she, and it brought her a strangely surreal sense of calmness. Greg glanced over to her a few times briefly before returning his eyes to the road that now grew faintly dusty.

"I'm really glad you came along."

She almost didn't hear him over the pulsating music, and lowered the radio a bit before answering. "If we get fired you won't be so glad, I can assure you of that." Her voice softened at her next words. "But still, I didn't want you to do this alone if at all."

Greg smiled a bit, tilting his head towards Morgan while keeping his face forwards and eyes glued to the road. "Worried about me?"

"Well…" Morgan blushed a bit before answering with a slight grin. "…someone has to look out for you."

For the rest of the ride to the scene they didn't speak again. This time, it was a far more comfortable silence, even though Morgan could swear the sound of her heart pounded echoed in the small car. When the distant flash of blue and red lights was visible on the horizon, she could see Greg gripping the steering wheel in anxiety. Or was it excitement? It was hard to make out the scene from the position of the car, but they could make out ambulances, fire trucks, police cars and the familiar CSI Denalis on the side of the road. Workers were heading down a slope that dipped down from the side of the road, and portable construction lights were illuminating the area with their harsh glare for the firemen and EMS. The rescue workers ran up and down the hill from the site feverously, and as Greg's car slowed down an ambulance rushed past them with sirens blaring.

Greg pulled over to the side, close to a few of their co-worker's SUVs. Greg got out in a hurry with Morgan close behind. A police officer, tired and weary stopped them, but they pulled out their criminalist badges from work. Obviously, the officer was too stressed to notice that the IDs listed them as lab technicians and not field CSIs. He pointed out to Greg the path that had been labeled with crime scene tape and let them through.

Morgan noticed Greg shivering, his hands quickly getting tucked under his arms for warmth. His coat was far too light for the desert at night this time of year, and she was tempted to lend him her sweater. But Greg was moving fast ahead of her, and she followed trying to keep up. He spotted Nick and Grissom, pointing the two out to Morgan briefly before making his way over. It looked like they were in the middle of a makeshift medic station, since the site of the accident was so far from any local hospital. So many people were hurt, bloody and battered; so many dead laid down not too far from the living that were still struggling to survive.

Morgan felt her heart clench uncomfortably at the sight before her, desperately wishing for some barrier to place between her and the victims. How she longed for the comfort her glasses gave her. Feeling around in her pocket, she pulled a pair of latex gloves she had grabbed from the lab in her haste to leave. It would have to suffice as a layer of separation between her and the raw reality of the situation, so she snapped them on quickly.

Nick had just turned around from a medic when Greg finally reached him. "Hey. Got here as soon as we could." Greg was rubbing his hands together now, either out of cold or nervousness Morgan couldn't say.

Nick glanced over to Morgan at Greg's use of the word "we." He seemed to contain his surprise at their sudden appearance, but kept his eyes locked on Morgan's. She felt like a child about to be reprimanded by her second grade teacher.

"What are you doin' here, you two?"

Greg looked back and forth between Nick and Grissom, who had just noticed their arrival as well. Morgan tactfully positioned Greg between Nick and herself, unable to handle his intense gaze, and especially if it turned disapproving.

"W-well all hands on deck. That was the call, right?" He answered as if this explained everything. He glanced down and fingered his badge briefly before looking back up to Grissom and Nick. "Crims on the scene."

"Crims with field training." Grissom clarified, a faint air of doubt hanging behind his eyes.

Morgan bit her lower lip as Nick shifted his weight. He caught her eyes and she could clearly read the message he was sending. 'Why did you get dragged into this?'

"C'mon. We're capable." Greg glanced over to Morgan, breaking the unknown silent conversation.

She tore her eyes away from Nick, turning to Grissom and nodding. Morgan couldn't help using the same slightly wide-eyed look she would use with her father while trying to convince him to agree with her. It was a dirty tactic, yes, but Greg used it on her and it had worked well enough. Somehow she was certain Greg's puppy dog eyes wouldn't faze Grissom much. Nick sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground.

Grissom turned to Nick and motioned to the two lab techs with his hand. "They do no collection. Greg, shadow Nick. Morgan, you're with me."

Greg watched as Grissom left, then made eye contact with Morgan. She let the corner of her lips lift slightly, touching his shoulder as he searched her eyes.

"Be careful." Her voice was soft and low, a gentle reassurance. Her hand quickly slipped into her pocket, drawing out a handful of latex gloves. Nick was thankfully looking away, getting something from his own jacket as she fisted the gloves tightly and stuffed them into Greg's jacket pocket. "Here. Just incase."

Without another word she left and followed after Grissom. She really didn't need a confrontation now with Nick, but somehow Morgan just knew he would corner her later. She had told him as much she was scared of being at crime scenes, and here she was. With Greg, no less. Her stomach rolled at the thought of what would eventually happen.

Greg watched Morgan leave, his heart pounding so hard from her light touch he momentarily forgot where he was. Nick's voice harshly pulled him from his reprieve.

"Yer takin my notes," he said while holding out his notebook. His brow crinkled a bit as Greg shivered. "You didn't bring a warmer jacket?"

Greg glanced at the notebook, then up to Nick again. "No."

Nick glanced away from Greg to Morgan's retreating form. For that instant his gaze burned into her back. He looked back to Greg, his face still impassive, then shook his head and stepped around the lab tech saying nothing more. Greg just stood in place for a moment, slightly dumbfounded.

Morgan fared a bit better at first with Grissom, taking his notebook as well as she followed him. They got closer to the bus, and she could now see a car was still being partially crushed by the roof of the overturned bus. Grissom was examining the undercarriage with his flashlight. She shook her head and winced slightly, trying to concentrate on her silent boss but couldn't shake a strange sensation that still gripped her stomach. It wasn't about Nick, and the feeling seemed to crawl up and wrap around her heart now. Whatever caused this was close, this feeling of agony, desperation and fear. However it was different than the sensations she felt from her encounters with the recently dead, it was raw and fresh leaving a bad taste at the back of her mouth.

Catherine approached them from behind, speaking to Grissom. "Fire department says the driver of the Camaro's dead."

Grissom stood and faced her while Morgan just silently looked up. "Yeah, I heard," he answered, then turned back to the undercarriage.

Catherine glanced at Morgan and did a double take. "Morgan, what are you doing at the scene?"

She froze at being addressed and gaped for a moment before regaining her composure. "Greg said everyone was needed." Shit, that sounded like she was blaming him. Well, it was his fault. A bit. "I wanted to come and thought he shouldn't come alone."

"It's alright Cath. She's not collecting anything. Nick is with Greg." Grissom reassured her. Catherine still stared at Morgan with a bit of shock on her face but seemed to accept this answer. "I think I know why the bus pulled to the right."

'_I just wanted to surprise her…'_

Morgan snapped her head around and searched for the person speaking. No, it wasn't someone speaking aloud; it was someone speaking _to_ her. Or just mentally voicing his desperate thoughts. Someone close by, on the edge of death.

Catherine was examining something with Grissom and remarked "Now that is a serious blowout."

But Morgan wasn't paying attention to her superiors, though she should have been. She stepped away as they continued talking, unaware of her missing presence. Morgan reached deep from within her self, drawing on her own energies and reached out to the echo the voice had left behind.

'_Where are you?'_

Her senses seemed to extend from her own physical being, and she moved slowly to guide them and find the source. She stepped around the back of the bus, examining every face she passed and every hidden corner an unseen victim might be.

The voice came more desperate now, almost like the person was wincing. _'It hurts. Oh god… tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I just wanted to surprise her…'_

Moving slowly, Morgan's steps were more of a ghost haunting the scene than a person looking for survivors. She felt a presence more strongly, more localized as she came around from the rear of the bus and tried to latch onto it. _'You can tell her yourself. I'm going to help you, but you have to tell me where you are.'_

'_I… I don't know. I can't open my eyes… so… so much pain…'_ it was a frightened whisper now.

She stopped in front of the car now, the engine of it trapped under the bus still and the air bag deployed long ago. What was it Catherine had said, they pronounced the driver dead? Was he really? The unnatural cold that seeped into your being which usually followed lost souls wasn't present. A few rescue workers walked past her, not paying attention to the strange woman, the car, or its victim. When she got closer towards the back of the car she tried to peer through the broken glass of the rear window.

The voice was silent at the moment, but it was definitely the same presence. It was the driver, motionless but still barely alive. Morgan slowly pressed herself to the side of the car and reached forwards through the rear window, her essence extending past her fingers and caressing the driver's form. Then a blood covered hand shot up.

The driver gasped and started labored breaths, struggling for air. His eyes rolled open and looked up to Morgan who reached in further to grasp his hand firmly. He gazed into her eyes desperately, lips parted and unable to form words.

"It's alright. I found you. We're gonna get you out of here. You're safe." Morgan briefly tore her eyes from the driver and cried out over her shoulder. "RESCUE! I NEED RESCUE NOW!"

His grip tightened which forced her gaze back to him. She could barely make out what was wrong with all the blood. Then she started to feel his life slipping away in her hand, his own life essence bleeding out into nothingness as his physical body started to die. Morgan had to do something, and fast. She pulled off the latex glove on her other hand with her teeth, clasping his hand with both of her own now. Firemen were rushing to the car, but they couldn't work as fast as she could.

Tears were forming in her eyes, and she moved herself as close as she could get to the driver without climbing in. She whispered to him, "Give me your pain. Let me take it from you so you can live."

What happened next was instinct, something she knew how to do without understanding it. Perhaps it was something the tome had once etched into her brain, or maybe she always could but never had to until now. The essence in her body, the energy of life itself, concentrated to where her skin met that of the driver's. It poured into him, filling the wounds in his body and accelerating his natural healing process. Invisible to the eyes of those without the gift, energy flowed from Morgan into the battered man.

But it was a two way street when it came to this form of healing, and all things have their dues to pay. Pain lanced through Morgan's body as imaginary wound were ripped open across her. They were mimicking in her what the driver felt, a cost to pay for affecting the natural world. She gasped and gripped his hand tighter now, her knuckles turning white as she forced to concentrate on the flow of energy. The driver took a deeper breath than he could before, gazing up with dazed eyes as relief washed over him. Perhaps somewhere in his mind he knew just what Morgan was doing, what agony she was inflicting onto herself for him to live.

And then the connection was lost, the firemen having pulled her away and breaking their joined hands to get better access to the driver. Morgan stumbled backwards, falling against another rescue worker that steadied her before turning his attention to the car. She was shaking now from the force of the severed connection, the echo of pain still fresh and tingling in her nerves. She gasped and held her head, praying she did enough for him, praying she had enough time. At least now the driver had a better chance to survive to get to the hospital.

"Are you alright?"

A voice broke her daze, and Morgan looked up through wet eyes to see Catherine looking at her concerned. She could feel a warm hand on her shoulder, and Catherine looked just as scared as she had just moments ago.

"I… yes… I just can't believe… they didn't check him better." Her voice was still slightly in gasps from the tremors of shock still resonating in her body.

Catherine didn't say anything for a moment, nodding and standing close to Morgan. The two women watched in silence as the rescue workers rushed to get the trapped driver out, getting a gurney and medical supplies over quickly. As they started to pull the man onto the gurney and secure him to it, Catherine finally broke her silence.

"I'm going to follow him, see what I can get. Go back to Grissom and see if he needs help." She paused and looked into Morgan's eyes with concern. "If you need some air or to leave, it's okay. You did the right thing."

Morgan nodded, blinking tears from her eyes briefly and glancing to the driver again. He was conscious at the moment but still very dazed to everything. Catherine followed the EMS with the driver as Morgan moved away from the scene, needing to clear her head a bit. She looked down and saw her hands, still wearing one latex glove, and both covered in blood.

* * *

**A/N:** _Ewww blood. Well it's not going to be the last time she gets it on her. That reminds me, feedback is appreciated and is the lifeblood of all authors!! Oh yeah, and Morgan is really gonna get a frustrated Nick next chapter. Hey, I have to leave you people wanting more, don't I?? That and the intensity between Greg/Morgan and Nick/Morgan needs time to simmer, but we can all smell a Nick and Greg clash coming soon. But hey, it's a surprise, isn't it? Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!!_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_CSI is back on the air and I'm celebrating!! More Nick and more Greg, and more dead bodies, oh my! Man, this story is like... getting long fast. But I love it. Hope you guys watch the new episode tonight with me!_

Morgan stumbled towards where the trauma doctor had set up. Her hands still soaked with the Camaro driver's blood caused a few of the rescue workers to stop and check that she was alright. She just nodded and brushed past them; she desperately needed to get the blood off of her. The trauma doctor was covered in blood as well, even more so in fact since he was helping with the accident victims. The doctor looked up to her, a question on his face he didn't need to speak to express.

Morgan found her voice. "I-I'm fine. I just… I need something to clean it off… please."

He nodded and motioned to a stack of boxes that contained medical supplies for the makeshift hospital. She thanked the doctor while moving past him towards the boxes. Unfortunately, right nearby were two people she really did not need to see at the moment. Greg and Nick were still talking to the bus driver.

Her mind went dizzy with the possible confrontation. _'What happened?! Are you hurt?! This is all my fault. Damn it Greg, why did you have to bring her here??' _Morgan's stomach lurched uncomfortably. Still, they were occupied with the bus driver. If she was careful and kept her back to them she might just remain unnoticed.

Cautiously, Morgan moved closer towards her goal, keeping her head low and trying to draw as little attention as possible. This wasn't easy with bloody hands, but she held them low and tried to have them out of sight without getting blood smeared all over. She softly apologized about having to move past an EMT and one of the passengers of the bus. Finally, she was in front of the small cache of medical supplies. Pulling off her lone latex glove with great care, she used her unbloodied hand to get some antiseptic wipes.

Morgan's heart was racing, since she was close enough to the very men she wanted to avoid that she could hear them talking. She could even make out Greg's thin jacket crinkle each time he shivered. She ripped open the wipe wrapper with her teeth and rubbed the contents over her bloodied hand. There was just so much of it; Morgan could only wipe off the larger congealed clumps at first. She started on the second wipe and caught some of the conversation going on behind her.

"I understand that, Mr. Draper but how long… after that did the wheel start to shake on you?"

That was Nick. She never heard him so serious before. Then again, they hadn't really talked much.

"Uh… I don't uh- I don't I don't know."

That had to be the bus driver. He sounded a bit shaky. Well, who could blame him?

"Sir are you okay?"

Morgan was rubbing one part of her hand so hard with the wipe the skin underneath was starting to turn pink. Some how, it didn't hurt. She opened another wipe, tossing the dirty one down and started to clean her hand that had been covered with the latex glove.

"No." The driver let out a slight laugh before continuing. "We- we're behind schedule. I- I gotta get back to the bus."

"Oh no, alright now wait a second." She could hear the bus driver trying to stand while Nick talked to him. "Mr. Draper… Mr. Draper have you had anything to drink t'night?"

A pause. Morgan looked down at the small pile of bloody wipes forming on top of the medical supply box.

"I'm gonna do a preliminary field breath test, you keep an eye on Mr. Draper for me. Mr. Draper just sit tight."

Damn it, her hands were shaking just slightly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out another pair of latex gloves.

"I got-… I gotta go."

The gloves snapped on and Morgan squirmed her fingers inside. Her hands were still a little shaky, but the layer of latex made her feel slightly desensitized. Such a strange comfort it brought.

"The uh- there's people…"

"I understand. I want'ch you to take a deep breath, I want'ch you to blow into the end of this for me, okay?"

Morgan shivered and reached to take the bloody wipes and discarded glove when she heard struggling coughs coming from behind her. She snapped her head up and looked. The bus driver was collapsing against Nick, who tried to hold him up. Greg looked shocked.

"I need a doctor over here. Greg, get some help." Nick told him, putting down something that was in his hand.

Greg didn't move. He just stood there starting at the crumpling man in Nick's arms.

"Greg. GREG!" Was all Morgan heard as she dashed to the trauma doctor.

"Sir! Doctor!" She ran the short distance over to the doctor she encountered earlier. He looked up as she approached him. "We need your help; the bus driver is coughing up blood. Please, sir!"

She wasn't sure, but Morgan felt her eyes sting with the desire to cry. She felt so helpless suddenly. The doctor nodded, double checked his current patient then brushed past Morgan to the bus driver. She followed close behind, unsure of what else to do. When they reached the injured man, Nick was still trying to hold him upright and Greg almost collided with the oncoming trauma doctor since he stood in his path. The doctor pushed Greg away and helped Nick sit down the bus driver on a gurney. Morgan moved to Greg's side and pulled him further away from the sight.

"Thank you, miss." The doctor turned to Nick briefly. "Sir, I'll take it from here."

As an EMT moved over to aid the doctor, Morgan pulled off her jacket and started to remove her sweater. Greg just looked surprised and seemed unable to form words, his eyes flicking back and forth between the bus driver and his fellow lab tech. She couldn't bring herself to look Nick in the eye who had just stepped away from the bus driver. Morgan smoothed out her black sweater and pushed it into Greg's face.

"Here. My coat is warmer than yours. This is nothing compared to New York in the winter."

Greg lifted his head and looked into Morgan's eyes. He looked so lost and still slightly in shock. She held his gaze and grasped his arms, rubbing some warmth into them.

"Hey now. It… it's okay." Odd that she was here, comforting him. It was easier for her to push herself aside and not think about the bad stuff when she had to help someone. A trait thought she lost when she came across that tome. "Not your fault, okay?" Greg looked down at her hands, his own clutching her sweater as he nodded meekly. "Put on the sweater, under your jacket. Okay?"

He nodded once more and pulled off his thin jacket while Morgan covered herself once more with her own. She looked up to Nick who had an unreadable expression on his face. Morgan didn't have such a good poker face, and she guiltily glanced to the pile of bloody wipes she had made for a moment. Nick followed her gaze, then snapped back to face her with worry on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but Greg unintentionally cut him off.

"I'm sorry. I didn't… I didn't mean to lock up like that." His face was gloomy while he his arms through the sleeved of his jacket.

Nick and Morgan had broken their gaze and looked over to him. She was thankful for the distraction.

"No, it's okay man. I understand." Nick stuck his gloved hands into his pockets as he spoke.

"Thanks. And uh, thanks Morgan. For the sweater and uh, and everything. I'm sorry you had to come here just to watch out for me like this." Greg shuffled his feet, still looking like he was kicking himself more than necessary.

Morgan just smiled a bit. "Don't worry. Look I'll see you two later. I'm gonna head back to Grissom in a sec."

Using her back to block their view, she crept over to the medical supplies she had used earlier and carefully picked up all the wipes and wrappers up. She purposefully stepped away from Nick to throw out the waste and hurried back to the bus and tried to find her boss. Morgan was definitely not looking forwards to talking to Nick now. And poor Greg, if he found out about the blood and Camaro driver he'd probably blame himself for putting her in that position. Well, atleast she wasn't fired. Yet.

Grissom was looking over some papers when Morgan found him. He looked up questioningly from his reading.

"Sorry, I had to clean up from the Camaro driver's blood and put on fresh gloves. Can't contaminate the scene and all."

He nodded and motioned to her with the papers in his hands. "Passenger manifest. Let's go over the victims and make sure everyone's here."

Morgan glanced around, her eyes catching Nick and Greg helping rescue workers carry the bus driver on a gurney uphill. She turned back to her boss and nodded.

"Yes sir. I'll write down names." She pulled out the notebook he had giver her earlier and they got to work.

It didn't take long. David, the assistant ME had recorded the names of the deceased and let Morgan copy the names down. One of the EMTs helping the trauma doctor went through the paperwork of the victims still present and Captain Brass told them the names of those transferred to the hospital. They compared the lists and came up one short.

In the end, they were both back in front of the bus again trying to find the missing passenger, who also happened to be an ex-con. Morgan looked up at the sound of Nick and Greg talking as they approached from the underside of the tipped over bus. Nick's eyes avoided hers and he addressed Grissom.

"Okay. What's next?"

Greg came up along side Nick and nodded to Morgan as the shift supervisor spoke up.

"Well we're missing a passenger. The only one not accounted for is an ex-con named Calvin McBride. According to Brass he wasn't admitted to the hospital and he's not in any of the body bags."

Greg seemed to shiver less with the addition of Morgan's sweater but he still moved back and forth uncomfortably. Nick ignored him and asked, "What about the rest stop in Barstow?"

"CHP and the Barstow PD are looking."

Greg piped up. "Anybody check the bus?" He motioned towards it with his head.

Nick looked at Greg then exchanged a look with Grissom.

"Worth a shot." Morgan muttered quietly.

Nick turned back to the bus and unzipped his jacket, holding in a sigh. "I'll find out."

He tossed it on the ground next to the bus. As Nick started to climb in through the gap the missing windshield left, Morgan crouched over and was unable to stop herself from lifting his discarded coat off the dirty ground. Really, he could have just asked. As she dusted the dry Nevada dirt from his coat she couldn't help smelling a hint of Nick's cologne still on it. She really didn't know about male aftershave or cologne, but whatever this was tingled Morgan's senses. Under the cologne was a musky odor combined with a just a touch of earthy scent she could only guess as Nick's. It made her head spin slightly. She wondered if next time she got close enough she could sniff Nick himself and-

'_What am I thinking?! I'm a lab tech not a blood hound in heat!'_ Morgan shook her head as Nick checked further back in the bus. _'Although… the man does know how to smell good…'_

Grissom turned back to Greg. "Firefighters only look in the obvious spots."

'_They should check better on those they think are dead as well,'_ she sarcastically thought, remembering how they had pronounced the unconscious driver as dead.

Morgan leaned forwards a bit into the bus as Greg asked Grissom, "Just out of curiosity, what are the unobvious spots?"

"Bodies?" He asked to clarify.

"Yeah."

Grissom looked thoughtfully and shrugged a bit. "Walls. Water heaters. Stuffed in the box spring of a hotel room bed. I found a head in a bucket of paint once."

Greg looked uncomfortable. "I get the picture."

While they talked, Morgan had a question on her mind. Well, besides what color the paint with the head in it was. The windshield of the bus was gone, and there didn't seem to be window fragments inside of the bus. If rescue workers broke it in to enter, the glass would have fallen inside, and they'd move it nearby as to not harm the accident victims. There were a few bits of glass inside, but it didn't look like vehicle window glass and didn't amount to an entire windshield.

"What do you see?" Grissom called out to Nick, who was now in the back of the bus.

"Well," Nick looked back towards the front. "McBride's not on the bus."

Morgan glanced around the exterior of the bus for the missing windshield as Nick noticed something interesting inside of it. He pulled up a paper bag and sniffed inside.

"Hey Grissom," Nick looked up to him and motioned with the paper bag. "Cheap whiskey, broken bottle, brown paper bag." He stood up with the bag still in hand. "Y'know… I never gave the bus driver a breath test."

Morgan didn't have a flashlight, so she couldn't see much beyond what the halogen work lights illuminated. It couldn't have popped out when the bus ran off the road, the forces impacting the bus wouldn't work that way. The only thing that could have done it was a forcing coming from inside the bus. She doubted that after an accident of his magnitude that McBride would be in any condition to kick out the windshield and run.

Grissom paused for a moment then pulled out a plastic bag from his pocket. "Greg?"

"Yeah?" he bounced in place a bit with his hands safe in the warmth of his pockets.

"Bag this, take it to the lab. Swab the rim for DNA." Greg took the bag and held it open for Nick to deposit the bottle.

'_Good thing I gave him gloves.'_ Morgan thought as she watched them.

Greg zipped the bag shut and turned to Morgan, looking over his shoulder briefly towards the slope where all the cars had been parked. He looked back to her, uncertain if she was going to automatically come along with him. He spoke softly with his voice still hinting at his hidden shame. "I'm gonna head back. You coming?"

His eyes had a slight hopeful glint in them, and she really didn't want to send him back to the lab alone. Poor Greg looked so sad, and it seemed like only a bit of what Nick and she said to him had any impact. _'Maybe he needs some time alone to think,'_ Morgan figured, but still felt awful as she turned down his offer. "I'll stick around a bit longer; see if they need anything else rushed to the lab that can't wait." She paused and watched his sad reaction, and she suddenly reached out to hold his shoulders and rub them comfortingly with her thumbs. "You did fine, Greg. I'll see you later in the lab. Promise."

The DNA tech nodded but still looked down. She guessed he still felt embarrassed about his lock up with the bus driver. "I'll drop off your sweater with Vince." That's all he muttered before parting.

Grissom checked his chart as Greg left and looked into the bus with his flashlight. "This guy was in 1C." her boss said, but Morgan didn't really hear him. She watched Greg's retreating form a bit longer before turning back to Grissom and Nick.

Nick dipped his left side trying to see what McBride's view from the seat would look like if the bus was turned upright. His odd behavior made Morgan remember her question that she still had not posed to the two CSIs.

"What happened to the windshield? It should have mostly stayed in one piece being safety glass, but it's not in the bus or anywhere I can see."

"Well," Nick pondered her point aloud, "seat 1C was the only seat with and unobstructed path through the windshield."

As he stood up straight Morgan finished his line of thinking. "Maybe McBride went flying through and took it with him."

Grissom turned and shone his flashlight in the direction the bus still pointed and started walking. Nick slid out from inside the bus to follow, Morgan also trailing behind her boss with Nick's coat still in hand. She didn't want to return it at the moment. Besides, Nick was more interesting in following Grissom to look for the missing windshield and ex-con to notice the cold Nevada night. They walked carefully, sweeping the beams of their flashlights back and forth and eventually illuminated the missing windshield half. It had a large impact point with radiating cracks, along with well-sized smear of blood.

"Laminated safety glass. Pops in, pops out." Nick remarked and glanced around before resuming the search.

Morgan glanced up for a moment to Nick's face so she could follow his line of sight. She couldn't help admiring him when he was all business. As she watched, the focused expression on his face vanished and his lips set into a hard line. She followed his gaze and the beam of his flashlight to find a blood splattered body with splayed limbs. The sudden smell of copper drifted into her nose and made the back of her throat tighten in discomfort.

Nick stepped up to the body and murmured, "Hello Mr. McBride."

Mr. McBride didn't look as bad as the Camaro driver did, but Morgan still had to look away. His blood had pooled out and soaked into the dirt, giving the earth a strange unnatural scent. She instinctively pulled Nick's coat closer to herself for comfort as her stomach twisted and coiled.

Grissom drew in an audible breath. "I'm afraid out ex-con just got the death penalty."

Morgan turned her back to the body, breathing deeply and squeezing the coat in her arms. It was harder to block out the sensation of death grazing the back of her neck. McBride seemed to be in the middle of moving on to whatever fate awaited him on the other side, but the close proximity with the body made it a bit tougher to push everything away. Her defenses kept an undoubtedly upset spirit at ay from her senses, but that pin prickling sensation that still persisted was difficult to ignore. She felt a hand brush against her back and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Nick came around her side, his warm touch sliding from her back to her shoulder a strong reminder of the living as he looked her in the eye.

"You okay, Morgan?" Concern burned from inside those deep brown eyes. His jaw was firmly set, something that made him slightly intimidating given the very square shape of it.

She opened her mouth to answer then promptly shut it and nodded instead. He was so close Morgan could almost smell the subtle scent that came off his body, that same sweet something that she couldn't identify from his coat. His coat! She thrust the jacket into his hands as if the contact with it suddenly burned her.

"H-here! Your coat… I- I picked it up for you. It's cold so…" her pulse fluttered around her pressure points as Nick accepted his jacket back with a confused look. He glanced at the jacket in his hands, then back up to Morgan. She blushed now when their eyes met briefly, and fought with the sudden urge to flee.

"Griss, I'm gonna take Morgan back to the lab along with anything else ready for analysis. You need anything else here?" Nick started to pull on his jacket and spoke past Morgan to the shift supervisor.

"Just send David over to pick up Mr. McBride before you go. Check back in once you reach the lab and I'll keep you posted." Grissom said as Morgan handed him back his notepad.

She felt a slight sense of professionalism return to her as she faced her boss. "I'll get whatever you need ready back at trace, sir." He nodded.

"By the way, Morgan," Grissom added while turning to face her fully. "Good job with the Camaro driver."

Her checks stung a bit, not used to receiving praise other than from her parents. She managed a small smile and quick nod before leaving to find David, and to avoid catching Nick's eye too soon. He zipped his jacket shut and still managed to get in step with her, much to Morgan's chagrin. They stopped briefly by David and Nick pointed over to where they had found McBride. The two carefully moved up the cleared path on the slope, with Morgan slipping a bit now and then but nothing too horrible. It had been so much easier going down it for her from the pseudo parking lot.

Nick had the traditional CSI black Denali as his ride, and Morgan briefly regarded it as a behemoth. There was very little evidence ready at the moment which was ready for transport. Most of what really needed to get to the lab was still on the road that Sara and Warrick oversaw; they were not ready to part with it from the scene just yet. What was ready they packed into the back of Nick's beastly vehicle.

Ever being the gentleman, Nick held open the passenger door for Morgan. Her slightly short stature made climbing into a large SUV a bit difficult and thoroughly embarrassing. Nick had the good graces not to laugh, but she did catch the corner of his lips slightly upturned as he shut the door for her. He removed his latex gloves before opening the driver's door and stuffed them into his coat pocket.

Morgan felt her face turn faintly pink as he climbed in and she finished buckling her seat belt. The realization that not only were they in close proximity, but the two of them were now basically alone made her shift in her seat uncomfortably. Nick didn't seem to let this bother him as he pulled out from his "parking spot." She tugged at her gloves to remove them and cool the heat that now built up inside of her. There hadn't been much choice given to her by Nick, he more stated it as a fact then offering her return to the lab. Maybe it was his intention to get her alone, though she doubted she would have been able to raise the willpower to object to sharing a ride with him.

As the Denali passed over the empty road, Morgan risked a glance at her driver's profile. The only light reflecting off of him was from the dashboard's console giving him stark contrast on his face of deep shadows and red light highlighting the projecting parts of his face. It was eerie, yet the accent of the sharp lines of his face made him look beautiful to her.

Nick glanced over after he felt her peer at him. His eyes were still dark from the feeble amount of light in the car, but Morgan could still feel them piercing through her. She held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned her head and looked back outside to the dark sky.

It wasn't too long when his soft voice broke the silence. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that, Morgan."

She blinked slowly and searched the sky for any stars, shaking her head slowly. "It's alright. Yes it was a little… depressing to see so many hurt people, but I'm alright."

Another long pause of silence. She liked staring at the stars, it brought her some peace. Right now it was a bit cloudy so they remained hidden in inky depths.

"Why did Greg drag you along?"

Morgan looked up to Nick once more, surprised with the quick accusation placed onto Greg. "He didn't. Well… not really. I was a bit worried about him going alone."

"Oh." There was a strange weight in that one syllable.

'He almost sounded… disappointed.' Morgan thought. She figured it would be best to clarify.

"He was so worked up in the lab about going to the scene; I didn't want him to get in trouble. I figured if two lab rats showed up it would be less embarrassing then if Greg was the only one. Besides, us lab techs have to look out for each other."

Nick chuckled at her last remark, and some of the tension in the car was lifted. "Yeah, I was mighty surprised to see the two of you there. Like a lab rat sneak attack."

A giggle escaped from Morgan before she could stifle it. That seemed to give him some satisfaction, the hard lines that had been deepened by shadow now eased away. That strange, comforting tension settled over them, just as it had both prior times they talked in the break room.

She wasn't sure why she said what she did next, but the words just blurted out of Morgan's mouth before she could stop them. "I really appreciate you worrying about me, Nick."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Morgan tried to swallow them down reflexively but far too late. Nick regarded her for a moment then let out a slight smile. "No trouble, Morgan. Ya' know, you gave me quite a scare for a sec there t'night…" Her heart plummeted into her stomach as he finished the sentence she dreaded. "What was with the blood over by the bus driver? Did'ya get hurt?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and adjusted the seatbelt that seemed to clench at her throat a little too much suddenly. "No it uh… it wasn't my blood." Her fingers flexed in recollection of the sensation of having blood caked to her skin. "The Camaro driver was still alive and I held his hand while they got him out."

Nick made a 'hmm' sound before speaking. "So that's what Grissom was talkin' 'bout. When I saw the blood, y'had me worried somethin' happened."

"I- I'm sorry!" Morgan snapped her head towards him quickly, her fists balling up in anxiety. She hated making people worry about her, it always was the case since she was a child. Her mother would get so scared even over scrapes that she dreaded that fearful look to don her face. Nick just chuckled at her reaction.

"Hey, no harm no foul." He gave a bright smile in the dark and placed his hand on Morgan's nearest tensed up fist.

She watched his hand and felt the turmoil rise inside of her to push his hand away instinctively. This wasn't easy, as skin on skin contact used to end up with her empathy kicking in. It was the hardest to mentally push away, and she desperately wished she kept her gloves on. Morgan's defenses gave way and her senses tapped into his aura more deeply than anything she could ever muster by sight alone.

She had seen Nick's aura months before when she had first started working at the Las Vegas crime lab. His aura was still the same, every time she got a glimpse of it from the corner of her eye. He gave off a warm and comforting sensation that was bright green in color, so easy to trust and get lost in like a childhood blanket. Morgan didn't need to see his aura with her own eyes to know that it was still that wonderful green that would shimmer even in the dim light of the car. Most people thought green was the color of envy, but that in truth was a dark, shifting, uneasy color. No, this green was bright and sparkled like new spring growth that sang after fresh rainfall and showed Nick felt with all his heart.

Morgan lowered her hands as the tension slipped away and the comfort of Nick's aura washed over her. It was like floating away on a slow moving river for her. His touch still lingered on her skin for a bit longer after he had pulled his hand away, and she couldn't help letting out a soft sigh as he withdrew from her. Morgan felt slightly drugged from the sensation, her thoughts taking far too long to process in her brain as the lights of Las Vegas twinkled on the horizon. Nick flicked on the radio and soft country music gently floated from the car's speakers.

'_Figures.'_ Morgan managed to form that slightly cohesive thought with an internal giggle. She closed her eyes and relaxed more into her seat.

"Hey Morgan?" A slightly unsure voice came from somewhere to her left.

"Mmm?" She murmured, unable to create words with her voice just yet.

"After work, I'll treat'cha to dinner. For, y'know, it being yer first time on a scene 'n all. And the near death-by-gyro."

Silence was his only answer for a bit as the gears in her head tried to process what he just said. Morgan vaguely started to remember the other night, when he said he wanted to treat her for making him lunch… after he caused her slight choking and coughing fit.

"_I want to. I know a lot of people who work here… I don't know you though."_

She shivered as she remembered him saying that, so adamant yet so gentle. He wanted to get to know her… just the thought sent thrills through her body and make her throat dry in uncertainty. Greg wanted to be her friend as far as she could tell, but from his behavior before she had set him straight he might be after more. Not that he was disrespectful, and was obvious that he'd rather be her friend before diving into the idea of dating. Nick, however, was far more difficult for her to decipher. Most likely this was due to the fact Morgan could barely go five minutes without blushing in front of him. Even though his sweetness was very charming, he still was a very fine specimen… oh hell, he was a stud.

It seemed nearly every woman that didn't work closely with him in the crime lab would sigh and titter amongst themselves as he passed in the halls. While Morgan was above such behavior publicly, she still felt like a foolish teenager around him. His smile made her heart flutter and when he would get close to examine a report on evidence she processed for one of his cases he would barely brush against her ever so slightly her knees threatened to buckle. The last time she felt so helpless was in college, and her solution was to bury her nose in her text book. She'd wait for the semester to end and thus likely ensure her running into any particular man that made her pulse race.

Now she was cornered in a moving vehicle with no hope of escape. Yes, she had promised herself to have more social interactions with people. This however had pulled her in over her head and Morgan was drowning in anxiety and uncertainty. Her greatest fear would be thinking that Nick had romantic intentions and turning out to be wrong. She'd never be able to look him in the eye again if that happened, and would sour any chance of just being friends. Could she be just friends with Nick Stokes? At the moment, whatever their status was seemed unclassifiable by her.

Morgan peered through half-opened eyes at Nick in the darkness. She'd just have to go with it, step by step, to see where everything was leading her. Her faith would have to be put in taking time, since retreat was not an option. It would be awfully rude as well.

"Sure." Her voice was soft and didn't quite sound like her own inside of the Denali, but she accepted the promise as her own none the less.

* * *

They arrived back at the lab with the sky still dark and showing no signs of lightening any time soon. Morgan helped Nick unload the evidence for the case, little as there was at the moment. They went around the lab and dropping off each piece at the various sections that would handle their analysis. She stopped as Nick started to head towards trace, figuring it would be strange to drop off evidence she would end up having to process anyway. That and she really didn't need Vincent questioning her about why she was getting so chummy with the handsome bachelor Mr. Stokes. Morgan thanked Nick for the ride and hurried to the locker room so she might get her jacket off and crawl back into the safe familiarity of her lab coat. Her black sweater was already inside, and she took it as a sweet motion from Greg. She didn't bother changing again into her more professional attire, since the thought of changing a third and possibly fourth time was a tiring thought.

A brush tamed the difficult strands of hair that had started to poof out after her time at the scene. She couldn't understand how Sara and Catherine could go from scene to scene with their hair down, although they did have comparatively shorter hair than Morgan. Rushing back to the trace lab and nearly colliding with Bobby Dawson, the ballistics tech, she came in to find a rather smug looking Vincent Jemison. The blood in her face wasn't certain to blush or drain away, so it sort of stilled in a state of shock. Morgan stood up straight and played nonchalant as she walked in and drew out a pair of latex gloves.

The lab was silent at first, Morgan getting back to work quietly and Vincent just standing and watching her with the same smug half-smile and his arms crossed over his chest. Finally Vincent gave in and spoke. "Sooooo?"

Morgan didn't even look up as she picked up the next piece of evidence and prepared to make a slide. "So, what?"

"Well there's so much to ask." The lab tech said with gusto, waving his pen around. He took a step forwards and leaned towards her knowingly. "So what happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened, okay." She reached up to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose, then remembered they weren't there when she came in contact with the skin of her nose. She covered her blunder by pretending to scratch her nose.

"I doubt that" Vincent gave his eyes a slight squint in emphasis. "So you left the lab with Greg annnnnd?"

Morgan let out a slow breath. "Nothing. Nothing earth shattering. Get back to work."

He gave a doubtful look.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

Vincent shook his head.

"Fine." She bunched up her hands and slammed them on either side of her microscope. "We went to the scene. I shadowed Grissom and Greg shadowed Nick. I found out a Camaro driver presumed dead wasn't really dead. I got blood on me. We found a dead ex-con." Morgan lowered her eyes back to the microscope and muttered low quickly. "…And-Nick-drove-me-back-and-is-taking-me-to-dinner."

Vincent could easily double for the Cheshire Cat at this point, minus the stripes of course. His eyes and grin were wide and bright. "Dinner?? Really now… Why I didn't know you were such a flirt, Morgan."

She snapped her head up looking horrified. "I… I am not! He just… he just asked me…" Her eyebrows lowered in anger and pointed a threatening finger at him. "Don't you get like this on me, Vincent. He just asked me on the way back here and I gave in. You'd better not start spreading rumors around the lab or I **swear**…"

He put up his hands defensively and backed up, his playful demeanor vanishing. "Hey hey I didn't mean anything bad by that. Just foolin' Findlay, honest." Morgan broke her glare at him and lowered her eyes back to the microscope slowly. Vincent continued cautiously, "But I'm glad you're getting out and being sociable."

She only snorted at that before he went on. "Seriously, you need some time to go out and enjoy yourself. No joke."

A sigh was the only sign that Morgan gave, a vague hint that she slightly forgave him and she went back to work. Vincent was wise and didn't press her any further the rest of the day, and they both analyzed various bits of evidence in silence. The tension of the day seemed to slowly build up on Morgan, with thoughts of Nick and Greg flitting through her mind.

'_Greg! I almost forgot…'_ she groaned while rubbing between her brows with her fingertips. _'I should check on him, see how he's doing. I can't believe how upside down I get turned after just a car ride with Nick. This definitely is going to play havoc on my professional aptitude.'_

While Vincent was busy waiting on the GCMS Morgan slipped out for the DNA lab. As she started to make a turn around a corner she saw Greg and Grissom talking in the middle of the hallway. She wasn't sure what was going on, so she tried to stop short but ended up slamming her shoulder into the sharp corner of the wall. It wasn't so she could eavesdrop, really. If Greg was being admonished by their boss he certainly didn't need her presence at the moment. Her consideration gained her a bruised shoulder and her own brand of bruised ego

Biting back a groan from the pain lancing through her nerves she could just make out Grissom saying, "Did you enjoy being in the field?"

Well that was a bit unexpected. Granted, from what she heard Grissom was far more accepting than day shift's Ecklie. God that man was unbearable.

"You heard about it too?" Greg said, sounding far less down than he had so many hours prior.

"What?" Grissom's voice was soft, almost like a concerned father. He really was a great boss; she wished that more of the higher ups noticed that. Morgan flexed her fingers to try and dispel some of the pain running down through them from her shoulder.

"I… messed up."

"No." That same soft response from their boss.

Greg paused for a moment, and then spoke with a hint more confidence in his voice. "Well then I enjoyed it fine."

She heard the sound of footsteps towards the DNA lab, and then a few moments afterwards saw Grissom walking to the juncture in the hallway Morgan was hiding at. He turned to her and peered slightly over his glasses to her, holding a small report that Greg probably had given him. She was busted.

"Uh. Hello, sir."

He regarded her for a moment, crossing his arms, then spoke up. "I take it you were listening."

"Unintentionally, sir." She lowered her head in shame. "I was worried whatever you had to say to him didn't need to be said in front of me."

"We try to be open and understanding working relationship in this lab, Morgan. You don't have to call me sir. Grissom is fine."

Morgan nodded. "Yes. I just… I really didn't mean to over hear. I wanted to check up on Greg." She paused and looked up to meet the eyes of her boss. "He didn't mess up, sir- uh, Grissom. He's just… beating himself up over nothing."

Grissom mulled over this for a moment. "Hmm. How about you, did you enjoy being in the field?"

Her eyes went straight down to her feet as she thought about this. Morgan really wasn't sure how she felt about it all, half the time she was thinking about Nick or Greg and not the task at hand. That wasn't the mark of a good field criminalist. Well, there was the fact that her hands had been caked in blood. Although it did leave her with a nice feeling as she unraveled bits of a mystery at the scene of a crime instead of a stuffy lab. The bodies were a bit of a downer, though.

"It was alright." She met his gaze again. "A bit intense for a first time, I think, but not terrible. I kinda liked it."

There was a hint of a smile on his face, more in his eyes than anything else. "Good." And with that he left her standing there in the hall, still turning over in her mind the possibility if she wanted to give up staying in the lab versus working in the field.

Morgan glanced around the corner again towards the DNA lab and watched Greg's back. He was hunched over a microscope and looked in a far better mood than when he was back at the scene. Well, after the whole thing with the bus driver. She stood in the doorway and knocked on the door frame.

Greg spun around on his heel and brightened up once he realized who was at the door. "Oh hey!"

"Hey." Morgan couldn't help smiling a bit. Greg could always do that, just make her smile without even trying. "You look like you're doing better. I'm glad."

"Really?" A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Didn't know you cared so much…"

She looked down at her sneakers again. They really seemed to be interesting today. "Yeah yeah… sorry I couldn't keep you company on the ride back to the lab. Oh!" She looked up to him as she remembered. "Thanks for putting my sweater back in my locker. A bit of an invasive motion, but still sweet."  
Greg's fingers trailed though his messy hair for a moment. "Well that's me. Sweet enough to give tooth aches."

"I just wanted to check up on you, but if I stick around any longer I might need to see a dentist." Morgan played along with him, giggling at his silliness.

He grinned wide and flashed those pearly whites as he took a few steps closer. "Well… I'll have to be extra careful then. Maybe I should check out those chompers and make sure I haven't caused any damage yet."

She pushed his chest playfully. "You're crazy. I'm glad you're feeling better… you were so down before you had me worried. Being sad doesn't suit you."

He smirked a bit from the light impact. "Well, I have someone like you who looks after me." Greg reached up and brushed back a loose strand of Morgan's hair off her face.

The contact caused her mouth to go dry and her heart to start slamming inside her ribcage. She backed up a bit, shaken by his action and her eyes looked down to the ground. Morgan couldn't take this, not after being cornered by Nick today. "I… I should get going. I got a bit of backlog in trace."

Greg took a step back in surprise and watched her reaction. He certainly didn't expect that. "I… ah… yeah sure. I'll see you later."

After running to hide in the women's restroom, Morgan tried to will her pulse to calm down. She pressed her cheek to the cool glass of the mirror and sighed. This back and forth game that Greg and Nick were playing just left her confused. It was almost mid-shift and she still had to finish her work hours then have a meal with Nick. She wanted to run but couldn't, and felt sick to her stomach. Everything was just happening too damn fast for Morgan to handle. She washed her face with cold water and went back to the trace lab, hoping the day would slow down enough for her to cope.

* * *

**A/N: **_Alright guys. I have more alerts for this story than I do reviews. I do not hold stories hostage over reviews, but I really want to know what you guys like about this story. I hate to be harsh but... -pulls away her basket full of chocolate chip cookies- No cookies for you... unless you review of course. I am glad for all the people reading... just let me know what you think. -eats a cookie- mmm... melty... _**Updated 06/08/08**


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